No Restraint
by Gibbsgirl
Summary: Gibbs is after someone. Or is someone after Gibbs?
1. Prologue

**Title:** No Restraint  
**Author:** Gibbsgirl  
**Rating:** T (to be on the safe side)  
**Spoilers:** Twilight, as this takes place after that. Also it will help if you've seen most of the second half of season two, as some incidents from those episodes will be referenced.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. That belongs to others with more money and the enviable right to play in their world all day long. Any characters you do not recognize from the show are mine. If you're going to sue, I'll save you the trouble and the lawyers the laugh… I'm broke so don't bother.

**Author's Note:** As stated above, this takes place after Twilight. It is not really a post-Twilight fic, though. It's just a casefile story that I got in my head, thanks to Mac and her plot bunny, and it happened to fit better in this time frame. There are no pairings in this one, it's just straight casework.

I must take a moment to thank, as always, my writing partner, Mac. Thanks so much again Mac! Both for the inspiration and the awesome edit work that you do! Take a bow, you deserve it!

Finally, I'm going to try to update this a little differently than in the past. I plan to post a chapter a week, two if they're short. It seems to work well for other authors and that way, you'll know when to expect the next installment.

* * *

Gibbs pressed down on the accelerator and followed the motorcycle around yet another curve. The rider wore yellow leathers with green accents, not white, but Gibbs was still certain that the man playing games on the sport bike in front of him was none other than Kate's murderer, Ari Haswari.

He wouldn't even have been out this afternoon, driving this particular stretch of deserted highway if it hadn't been for some half-assed deputy sheriff's call earlier that morning. The guy had been long on attitude, short on detail. Best Gibbs could figure was there was some trouble with a couple of young Marines who'd had a few too many and tried to hit on the wrong girls. Now the Marines were cooling their heels in the county lock-up, DiNozzo and McGee were due in court and Gibbs was taking an afternoon jaunt alone to sort out the mess.

What started out as a rather enjoyable drive became a chase about three miles back, as he sat at a red light near a shopping center. He watched the opposing green light cycle to yellow, then red. As his signal flashed green, he suddenly he found himself cut off by a cocky son-of-a-bitch on a sport bike popping a wheelie and flipping his helmet visor at him before taking off like a bat out of hell. Gibbs _knew_ it was Ari, taunting him, daring him to follow. _Bastard._

Now he was careening down country roads with only one objective, the figure in yellow and green ahead of him. He had no concept of how fast he was driving; he knew he could handle the car no matter what. His eyes were fastened on bike ahead of him as it swung off the main road. Gibbs fishtailed around the corner behind him and for the first time a frisson of worry skittered along his nerves. _Goddammit, something's not right with the brakes._

Just then, the bike popped another wheelie and shot ahead. _What are you up to, you slimy shit?_ Gibbs thought grimly as he forgot the brakes and sped up to catch the bastard. Without warning, a ninety-degree curve loomed ahead. Yanking the steering wheel and laying on the brakes, he spun around that turn only to find the road made another ninety-degree turn back the other direction almost immediately. But there was too much speed, nothing left of the brakes and a giant, scarred oak; mute testament to previous drivers' misfortune.

* * *

A figure in yellow crept close to the wrecked vehicle. Moving around to the driver's side, he set down the small case he carried and opened it to reveal a small medical device. He smiled coldly and gloved hands picked up the object, its appearance a cross between that of a large syringe and a small gun with a truncated grip. He loaded the device with a pre-measured liquid vial, primed it for use then applied it to the bared bicep of the unconscious driver, reached carefully through the shattered window. A barely audible hiss accompanied the activation of the instrument. 

After replacing the injector, a stack of used cups was removed from the case and tossed carelessly about inside the car. When the makeshift doctor heard the man groan in response to the treatment, he pulled out a cell phone as he sauntered off past the front of the car.


	2. Chapter 1

Dammit, DiNozzo! I'm telling you, I was chasing Ari! I saw the bastard! Gibbs slurred thickly as his gurney was pushed through the entry doors.

Tony watched as EMTs swept his boss and mentor into the small ER of the hospital. Gibbs looked about as frazzled as Tony felt right then. The bloody garments and agitation displayed by the older man were at odds with his well-dressed subordinate. Tony was no less agitated, however, having received the call concerning Gibbs' accident while still in court. He rushed straight to the small, local-area med center as soon as he was able. As he left the courthouse, he gave McGee terse instructions to hightail it back to HQ and find out just what the hell Gibbs was doing before he wrapped himself around a tree.

Seeing his boss, his friend, in this state worried Tony. He knew this vendetta with Ari was going to cause Gibbs harm someday, he just never suspected it would look like this. He felt his phone vibrate and he stepped outside to take the call, part of him relieved to be away from the sight of the battered and bloodied former Marine.

McGee, what have you got? Tony nearly barked into the phone, desperate for some sort of explanation.

I'm on my way to the crash site now; I just finished up at the office. He left a note on his desk about two Marines and a couple of working girls. Says here he was going to see a Sheriff Mercer about it. But I did a fast check and there is no Sheriff Mercer, no Marines in custody anywhere. McGee sounded distracted, the cacophony of beltway traffic filtering through to Tony. The only call that came in to Gibbs' desk this morning came from the same number that called in Gibbs' 911 call for the accident, a pre-paid cellular.

Tony did little more than grunt in response. Finally, when he realized that the other man had no more to give him, he muttered, Thanks, McGee, and snapped the phone shut. He reentered the building and walked slowly to the exam area.

Tony, what's taking so long? Get me the hell out of here! Gibbs' snarl was only marginally clearer than his last utterance.

Boss, just let the doctor examine you, will ya? Then we'll see about where you're going. Tony shook his head at the man's sheer stubbornness.

Gibbs pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes briefly then struggled to get up, only to be held back down by two orderlies, a nurse and a doctor.

Mr. DiNozzo, you're going to have to leave. I need to assess his wounds. He most certainly has a concussion from the accident and the last thing he needs is to be riled up. The doctor's drawl contrasted with the sharp tone as he spoke over his shoulder at Tony.

Gibbs fought the hands on him. I can't just lie here and let that bastard get away! Tony, he was on a motorcycle, yellow, wearing yellow leathers with green trim He trailed off as he watched Tony step away from the cubicle.

Gibbs practically shouted after the retreating form. The panic in the voice that echoed down the hall ran an icy finger of fear down the younger agent's spine. The doctor's soft voice did nothing to take away the chill. 

Mr. Gibbs, I'm going to have to _insist_ that you calm down. You have a head injury and possibly other, internal injuries. _Please_ lie quietly so we can examine you.

Tony felt his phone buzz once again. Again he stepped outside to take the call.

Tony, Tim. Look, I just got to the crash site. I spoke briefly to the crash investigators. There are no signs of another vehicle involved. McGee spoke hurriedly.

Not even a motorcycle? Gibbs said he was chasing a yellow motorcycle.No tire tracks at all, no paint chips, nothing. But there is something else you should know. When I got here they were getting ready to tow the car back to HQ. I got a glimpse inside. There were about a dozen empty coffee cups. When was the last time Gibbs actually slept? Do we have any idea?No. But his doctor should know about this, too. Thanks, McGee. That's good work. I'll see you as soon as you can get here. Tony clicked off the phone and headed back inside, this time with purpose.

He slowed his steps as he reached the cubicle, not wanting to interrupt the exam in progress. Gently he cleared his throat, hoping to catch the attention of the nurse.

DiNozzo! Where have you been? Do you have something more on that bastard? Gibbs' voice was a harsh wail that did nothing to ease Tony's fears.

Trying to be gentle, he started with the empty coffee cups. Boss, how much coffee have you had to drink today?How much what's that got to do with anything? Gibbs snapped back.

There were a dozen empty cups in your car, Boss. I'm worried about you. That's a lot even, for you.

Upon hearing this, the doctor snapped out an order for some extra blood tests, then turned to explain quietly that sometimes an overdose of caffeine can cause symptoms of psychosis.

It's unlikely, but with his possible concussion and that much caffeine, he could have been hallucinating. I won't know much of anything if he doesn't, here the doctor raised his voice to include the patient in on his comments, lie still and let us examine him!There is a murderer loose out there! I was chasing him until he lured me into that trap! Now I need to get back out there and find the man that killed one of my team!You could start by not cutting the rest of us out of the loop on this, Boss. McGee told me about the note you left on your desk about Sheriff Mercer. Why didn't you just tell someone you had a lead on Ari? Why lie?

The confusion in Gibbs' face spoke volumes to the other man. I didn't. Trace the callWe did. There is no Sheriff Mercer. No Marines. The call came in from the same one that called 911 after your accident. Quit playing this game alone. Kate was our friend and partner, too. Let us _in_, Gibbs!I won't let that bastard get away again. Gibbs renewed his struggles and the doctor, having had enough, signaled to the nurse waiting in the hallway.

Mr. DiNozzo, would you come this way, please? Tony glanced down in surprise at the nurse and started to follow her. He glanced back over his shoulder and was horrified to see his leader being lashed down with leather restraints.

He stopped dead. What's going on? he demanded.

The doctor will be out in a moment to talk with you. Please, just stay over here, away from your friend for now.

In his irritation, Tony pulled out his badge. He's not just my friend, he's my boss and this concerns an ongoing investigation. Now why are you tying him up like an animal? He kept his voice low, but a dangerous quality colored the tone.

McGee walked up as Tony watched the doctor supervise the last of the leather restraints being tightened. Where's Gibbs?Tied down, Tony ground out, staring at the approaching doctor. Now explain to me exactly why this is necessary.

The doctor sighed as he faced not one, but two angry federal agents. I can't get him to cooperate and if he's experiencing some type of caffeine-induced psychosis, I can't take the chance that he'll harm himself further in an effort to gain the upper hand. And as you know, we're fairly certain that he's sustained a concussion, which rules out any type of sedative. 

Tony! McGee! Don't let them do this to me! The unexpected higher-pitched timbre of the older man's voice sent shivers through Tony. Gibbs still fought the restraints, his eyes both furious at being abandoned by his team and pleading for release from the biting leather at his wrists and ankles.

Tony turned to McGee and he met the younger man's green eyes steadily. He could see that emotion, like his own, was carefully covered, but determination shone bright as they left the hospital. They would do for their boss what the medical professionals could not.


	3. Chapter 2

Hey Abbs! What've ya got for me? Tony stepped off the elevator and called over to the dark haired girl examining the door of a wrecked car.

Nothing, yet, Tony. Sorry. She gave an apologetic shrug that matched the tone of her voice and turned back to her examination of the vehicle. Although, this is really bothering me. I understand why the airbag didn't deploy. It wasn't a head on collision, so the sensors weren't triggered. I checked those and they were in working order. She indicated a pile on the workbench that clearly included the airbag. 

Abby shook her head as she paused near the driver's side of the mangled wreckage.

But, what, Abbs?Something's really hinky here, Tony. Gibbs is tall enough that the seat is back fairly far. That means that when the seatbelt locked on impact, it should have prevented him from flying forward far enough to hit his head. And, of course, he should have had a broken collar bone to go with his injuries. Abby paced slowly around the twisted remains of the Dodge Intrepid, inspecting it, before climbing carefully inside to begin the same procedure there.

What, you're not satisfied with the injuries he's got? Tony asked with disbelief, as he wandered over to look at the previously undeployed airbag.

No! It's not that. Abby popped her pig-tailed head out of the shattered window. If the seatbelt had been working properly, that's what should have happened. The force of the belt on that narrow boneYou have been hanging out with Ducky too much, haven't you? Tony interrupted what could become a lengthy explanation. So, fine, he should, but doesn't have a broken collar bone. What's that mean to this car and us? 

It means that something is rotten in Dodgeville. Hand me that screwdriver, will you? I want to check this. One gloved hand extended from the vehicle, surgeon-like, waiting for the instrument to be placed in it. 

As she worked, she told Tony, I've checked this vehicle's service records. I remember that a number of our pool cars had a recall on their seat belt ratcheting wheels not too long after I started here. I wanted to see if this car was ever one of those and if it was indeed serviced. 

He watched as Abby released the inside panel covering the seatbelt mechanism. Then he passed her a flashlight as she bent down to examine the ratcheting spool upon which the remaining seat belt webbing rested. Finally, she sat back and gave him a concerned look, then extricated herself from the wreck and headed for her terminal.

And was it? Tony had waited for Abby to elaborate on the car's possible recall history, but she'd fallen strangely silent.

Was it what?Part of the recall, Abbs! Tony shook his head.

No, this car was purchased after that. Something's not right here, though, Tony. There's dirt and gravel lodged in the ratcheting wheel for the seatbelt. Abby turned to face the tall man, concern etched on her face.

Okay, that means what?See, the seatbelt works with a pendulum mechanism designed to sense sudden deceleration. It activates the ratcheting wheel to lock and the seat belt doesn't move. Some are mechanical, some are electronic, but if the ratcheting wheel is all jammed up with dirt and gravel, it can't catch and lock up the seat belt. Gibbs had no chance with that belt, Tony.Was it tampered with? His voice was low and quiet.

You tell me. This type of problem only used to occur with construction vehicles. They've fixed it now. But you know how Gibbs drives. Do you think he off-roads it enough to pack that much debris in what should be a secured area? Abby looked at him levelly and did not flinch from his hard gaze.

Is that it? 

It's all I have right now, she said, simply.

I need more than just some dirt and gravel. Even, he continued as she opened her mouth to protest, if it's where it's not supposed to be. Find me something else, Abbs. Find me some solid proof that this wasn't an accident.I'll do my best. She bit her lip then reached out to him as he started to leave. Tony, I have a bad feeling about this.Me too, Abbs, me too. Tony nodded and turned away again. Her silence gave him pause, however, and he looked back at her. Are you all right?It's not me I'm worried about, it's Gibbs. She gave him her please don't tell me I'm crazy look as she waited for his response.

I can call the hospital and check in on him he began doubtfully, but she shook her head.

No, I'm going back over this car, top to bottom. There's got to be something else here. I'm going to find it. 


	4. Chapter 3

Laurie Bradford checked the chart on her next patient. This was the one the day shift had warned her about. As she opened the door and quietly approached him, she could see that he was facing away from her, twitching in his sleep. Unwilling to startle him, she assessed him from a few feet away

He was a tall, fit man and Laurie eyed the restraints with professional detachment to be sure they would hold. Carefully she stepped around until she faced him and then spoke just loudly enough to gain his attention.

Mr. Gibbs, I need you to wake up.

Instantly his eyes flew open and she was startled by the transformation in his face. While he dozed he had looked almost relaxed, now there was a hard wariness to him, mixed with a touch of confusion. Having dealt with concussion patients before, Laurie was used to the confusion, perhaps even the wariness. But the hardness in this man's face and eyes spoke of things she was uncomfortable with.

Mr. Gibbs, my name is Laurie and I'm the night nurse here. I need to ask you a few questions. Do you remember what happened to you?Car accident. Only it was no accident. His voice was scratchy and dry.

Laurie merely nodded and made a note on the chart. Do you know what day it is?What day it was Thursday when I had the accident. How long have I been asleep?

She smiled. Not that long. We don't let the concussion patients get any rest. It's still Thursday. How many fingers am I holding up? three. As she noted his correct answer, she watched as he tried to lift a hand and found the restraints still in place. How long do I have to stay tied up? She could hear frustration creeping into his voice.

That's up to the doctor. You were thrashing about pretty good earlier. We needed to be sure you wouldn't hurt yourself, anyone else, or, she looked him directly in the eye, try that escape you kept threatening.My head is killing me, he complained quietly.

I don't doubt it. You took quite a blow from what your chart says. Unfortunately, concussion victims have to tough it out. No pain med for you, doctor's orders. She smiled to take the sting out of the words.

Setting aside the chart, she leaned closer. Speaking of concussion, let's take a look at that lump on your head. She brushed his hair aside with one hand and was about to lift the other from its position at his side to check the bandage. She was unprepared for the hand that suddenly imprisoned her wrist.

Please, you have to help me. I need to get out of here! The intensity of his ragged whisper and in his piercing blue eyes pinned her in place. Just release one wrist, I won't tell anyone.

At the word wrist', Laurie's eyes dropped to the strong fingers encircling hers, but her gaze was caught by what his movements had exposed. The protective pad for the leather restraint had shifted and in his struggles he'd carved a bloody line into his own wrist. Her nursing instincts took over instantly.

Mr. Gibbs, you've injured yourself. Let me see to this. She deftly peeled his surprised fingers from her arm and set about assembling the necessary items to bandage the laceration while she continued to talk to him.

What's out there that's so important that you cannot allow yourself to heal? She began by carefully loosening the restraint one notch and swabbing the raw and bloody cut with a pre-moistened alcohol swab.

She felt his arm tighten at what surely must be a stinging sensation, but her patient's voice was steady as he answered her. A man. A man of evil. She could feel his blue eyes study her, but she did not take hers off her task.

Deftly layering gauze over the length of the damaged skin and adding extra for padding, she taped it down securely, continuing the conversation. And what is so evil about this man that makes you risk your life? 

She repositioned the manacle over the blood-red bracelet and expertly tightened it down so that it could not move and chafe. Then she met his eyes, waiting to see if he would answer.

At the renewed pressure, Gibbs tried to yank his arm back from her fingers. He murdered a woman. Another agent. A member of my team.

She watched him cover his pain with fury and said simply, You need to heal, before you can chase a murderer. You have a severe concussion, two cracked ribs and on top of that you seem to have given yourself an overdose of caffeine. You need to allow your body to process that and stay where you can be safely monitored for the time being. Now, I'll be back to check on you in an hour. Try to rest, Mr. Gibbs.Wait! If you won't help me out of here and I can't have anything for the pain, can you at least help me get a drink of water? I'm thirsty and I can't reach anything.

Laurie approached him warily and poured a cup of water. Then she gently held the cup to the patient's lips while carefully cradling his head so he could drink slowly. When the cup was empty, Laurie lowered his head back to the pillow and was pleased to note that he seemed to be calming slowly.

Mr. Gibbs, you are seriously injured and you need your rest. I know you're still wound up from the caffeine and I'm going to be waking you up every hour because of your concussion, but I want you to try your best to get some sleep. 

What about getting rid of these restraints?As soon as we're sure you're not going to hurt yourself or take off on us. In case they didn't tell you caffeine overdoses sometimes produce psychoses. Laurie watched her patient grimace.

You're saying I'm psychotic? he exclaimed.

I saying, if you get some rest and let your body heal, _then_ we can take these off. Get some sleep Mr. Gibbs. I'll keep an eye on you. She gave a faint grimace of her own as she left the man to find some comfort between the bonds and his body's torment.


	5. Chapter 4

"Abby, you rang?" McGee got the words out before Tony could speak, earning the younger man a glare from the senior agent. The doors slid shut behind the two men as the goth spun in her chair to greet them.

"Yeah, McGee. Hey, Tony. After finding the seat belt damage, I decided to go back over everything on Gibbs' car one more time. We know the brakes failed, but there were no signs of tampering. And there was nothing else wrong with the car. So I started thinking, if I wanted to get Gibbs, but I wanted it to look like an accident, how would I go about doing it?"

"Abbs!" Tony interrupted, slipping into his familiar role as the "boss" in Gibbs' absence. "Can we get to the point?"

"Your eyes aren't as piercing as his, Tony. Gibbs is still gonna have that one on you." Abby turned from the tall man and led the pair back to a worktable where she had a complex mechanical setup laid out. "Anyway, I thought if someone wanted to make it look like an accident, subtle was better."

Here she paused to indicate her layout. "May I present the basics of the brake system?"

"C'mon, Abbs!"

"Tony, this is important! Now you know how the system works. When you step on the pedal, the fluid is forced through the closed system to the individual wheels through separate brake lines. On a disc brake, which is what's on the Intrepid, the fluid is forced into the wheel cylinder, which operates the calipers, which close on the rotor. That slows the wheel." Abby turned to her display, which Tony now recognized as two brake system layouts, and pressed down on a pad.

"This is my brake pedal and this is a clean system. I press the brake and the calipers close on the rotor. Now, this one is using one of the lines I got from Gibbs' car. I'm going to point out that these lines are steel tubes with copper and lead coatings. Watch what happens when I press on the brakes."

Tony and McGee watched as the liquid spurted through tiny holes in the lines. "Shower time, guys! Our scumbag pin-holed the brake lines and effectively drained all the brake fluid from the system by the time Gibbs hit that tree. It's as effective as cutting the brake lines, only a lot more time consuming and," she said with a touch of reverence, "a lot more elegant."

McGee spoke up. "Wouldn't that only be one wheel though? Shouldn't the rest of the wheels have compensated for the loss of braking?"

"You're right, McGee, sensors in the system do allow for loss of pressure to one line or even front or rear brakes. In this case, though, it didn't help. All four lines were damaged," Abby told the men seriously.

The three exchanged glances, knowing now that this was no simple sleep-deprived or caffeine-induced accident. Pressing his lips together, Tony pulled out his cell and placed a call to the director's office.


	6. Chapter 5

The masked orderly that made his way quietly into the sleeping patient's room checked to make sure that he wasn't being observed. He appeared to be like any other employed by the hospital and indeed, he had taken great pains to do so.

Slipping to the man's bedside, he examined the IV and smiled to himself under the mask that so conveniently kept him unidentifiable. Palming a slender syringe, the orderly deftly and quickly injected the IV port with a small amount of clear fluid. Then he stood back and watched as the man in the bed became agitated, rousing himself from sleep.

Unhooking the mask, and stepping just far enough back, the orderly waited until the blue eyes opened, fogged with sleep and confusion, and spotted him.

"Ari!" It was a whispered word, but one the now-unmasked man wanted to hear. He slipped the paper covering back on his lower face, but not before giving the restrained patient a wolfish grin, and made a fast and stealthy exit.

"Dammit, let me out of here! Stop that bastard!" Gibbs' agitation level was rising, as was his volume.

Standing at the nurses' station, Laurie was completing some paperwork on a new admission to the floor when she heard someone yelling. Recognizing the voice as her concussion patient, Gibbs, she ran to his room.

As she entered, she found the man alone, thrashing against his restraints, nearly hysterical over the need to chase after someone. She attempted to soothe the distraught man. "Mr. Gibbs, please, you have to calm yourself."

"But he was here! Didn't you see him? I have to go after him before he gets away!" Gibbs was shaking and straining at his bonds, his words tumbling from his lips almost incoherently.

"Mr. Gibbs, relax, please. If you don't calm down, we won't be able to take these restraints off you in the morning. I'm not sure who you saw, but I can look into it for you if you'd like." In a effort to calm her patient, she laid a hand on his forehead and found it hot to the touch. Laurie was privately worried. There was no reason for this man to have suddenly become feverish and agitated.

"I… I can't relax… I'm…" Gibbs trailed off, his words throttled by a sudden seizure.

_What the hell_? thought Laurie, immediately pressing two fingers to his neck. His pulse rate was plummeting, a bad sign for a concussion victim. She punched the call box on the wall, requested a cardiac team, and reached for the BP cuff. As she took his blood pressure, she noted the odd new symptoms. Recurring agitation. Fever. Slowing pulse -- and now a sluggish pressure.

His intermittent convulsions were increasing in intensity, even as he seemed to be slipping into unconsciousness. As the cardiac team entered the room, Laurie was horrified to watch her patient seize violently, his eyes rolling back in his head. She closed her eyes. Whatever happened here, there was going to be hell to pay.


	7. Chapter 6

Tony sat in a chair that seemed designed to make its occupant feel distinctly uncomfortable after only three minutes. Trying not to fidget, he again glanced up at the blonde behind the desk. She flicked her eyes at him before going back to her rapid fire typing, seemingly dismissing his discomfort. His eyes roamed over her desk and landed on her nameplate, and he actually felt a stab of envy that Patty Lawson had something to occupy her time. All he could do was sit in this stupid, torturous chair and wait.

After a small eternity, the phone on the desk buzzed and an indecipherable conversation took place. Finally, the blonde spoke to him for the first time since he'd entered the director's outer office. "He'll see you now."

It wasn't the first time he'd been in to see Director Morrow. He was certain that it wouldn't be the last. But it was the first time he went in as a team leader bearing bad news. With the brake lines tampered with, the seat belt suspicious and his boss hospitalized, he dared not wait to see what would happen next before presenting his report.

Nodding as he stood, he crossed the short distance to the door and let himself into the Director's inner office. Then he presented himself to the gentleman in charge of the agency and waited until he was told he could sit and speak. _Hell of a time to feel like a performing poodle, Anthony_, he told himself.

"All right, Agent DiNozzo. You wanted to see me? Something about Agent Gibbs and his accident?"

"Yes Sir. By now I'm sure you know that Gibbs is in Loudon Hospital. He hit a tree chasing a suspect he believed to be Ari Haswari. I brought copies of all the pertinent data that we currently have. Patty said to leave the reports with her."

Morrow frowned and buzzed his assistant. A moment later the door opened and the blonde brought in the documents Tony had left on her desk, smiling widely at the now sweating agent. As she left, Morrow turned his attention to the papers and Tony felt compelled to regain some control of the situation.

"That's not the most significant thing, however." Tony inwardly cringed as he interrupted the director's perusal of the accident report and forensic findings. "Gibbs' car was tampered with; the brake lines damaged and most likely the seat belt mechanism as well. I don't know who he was chasing, but whoever it was, wanted him injured in that accident."

"You're absolutely certain of this? That the target was Gibbs?" Morrow regarded the younger man for a moment. "According to the glimpse I got of this first page, the car Gibbs was driving was a pool sedan. Any agent could have checked it out. How could our possible saboteur have been certain that Gibbs would have had that very car?"

Tony was nothing if not fast on his feet. "We're pulling the surveillance video to determine when and how the vehicle was tampered with, Sir. They should be on their way to Ms. Sciuto as we speak. But we suspect the _modifications_ were made to the car after Gibbs had checked it out of Transport Services. He received a phone call luring him out while both Special Agent McGee and I were in court."

Morrow eyed DiNozzo steadily, impressed that the agent didn't flinch under the weight of the stare. "All right, just what is it you think I should do, Agent DiNozzo?"

"If _someone _is still targeting Gibbs, perhaps assigning a guard to his room would be a logical step, Sir?" It took everything Tony had to make it a question and not a demand. Then he nearly bit his tongue while he watched Morrow consider the request.

"But we don't know that someone is targeting Gibbs, do we? We do know that Gibbs has felt a great deal of, shall we say, personal pressure concerning Ari since Agent Todd's death." Morrow paused and glanced aside, unwilling to meet the sudden hardness in the other man's eyes. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Is there anything else I should know about this incident, Agent DiNozzo. Anything at all?"

Even as he felt a part of his mind shout at him not to betray his mentor, Tony knew he had to give Morrow the full story. "There is evidence that Agent Gibbs may have had quite a lot of coffee, perhaps enough to give himself a caffeine overdose. The test results weren't available before I left the hospital, Sir." Giving Morrow that information felt like giving ammunition to the enemy. He dreaded finding out where and when it might be used against his boss.

"I see. All right, I'll read over your reports and get back to you." With that, Morrow dropped his gaze to the files on his desk – a dismissal that Tony felt like a door slamming in his face.

"Thank you, Sir," he said and stepped out of the office. Gibbs would have handled it differently, better probably. But he didn't have the same kind of pull with the director that Gibbs did. Yet. It infuriated him, however, to have to waste precious time waiting when the evidence was shouting at him to take action now.

Angry and frustrated, he looked at his watch and decided that Abby had had enough time to play with the surveillance tapes. He strode toward her lab determined to make every minute count.


	8. Chapter 7

"What do you mean, 'What did I give him'?" Laurie exclaimed. She stared in disbelief at Dr. Kaeler.

"He's _obviously_ been drugged. Now how exactly did _that_ happen, Nurse Bradford?" The doctor's voice was scathing as he spared a glance toward the patient's room.

"I have no idea! All of a sudden he became agitated, yelling about a man in his room that he had to go after—"

"Was this before or after you shot him full of an anti-psychotic?" Laurie snapped her mouth shut in shock at being cut off. She stared in disbelief at his smug countenance while biting her tongue, struggling to remain professional.

"Dr. Kaeler." She took a deep, calming breath then proceeded to detail her actions for the most supercilious man on the staff. "I was working at the desk when I heard Mr. Gibbs begin to yell. I ran to his side only to find him in an agitated state, disturbed by a man he claimed had been in his room. As I tried to calm him, I noticed the patient had become feverish." Laurie shook her head as she remembered the man's earlier condition. "At that point he experienced a seizure. I took his pulse, called for a cardiac team and continued to monitor his vitals until the cardiac team arrived. At no time did I administer any medication to Mr. Gibbs."

In the brief silence, the two regarded each other. Kaeler's face was stony, his fury with Laurie unabated. From the hallway they could hear the patient's confused voice. "It was Ari! Laurie? I shouldn't be here. Where's Tony? Is he gone? He'll come back to kill me." The words came in an unceasing stream of disjointed logic, causing both Laurie and Kaeler to stare in through the open doorway at the restrained man.

Laurie was full of concern and sympathy for the suffering man; the doctor, if looks were any true judge, was full of a good deal more irritation for the situation and his next words were venomous. "Did you, by any chance, see this supposed intruder, Nurse Bradford? No? I didn't think so," he sneered. "Draw blood. If you won't tell me what you shot him full of, I'll find out myself. Do it now, I'm not going to wait for the phlebotomist from the lab. I want those vials in my hand, I'll take them down myself!"

Unable to hide her disgust and frustration Laurie threw her hands up in the air and walked toward the supply area, tossing over her shoulder, "Let me get the necessary equipment."

Once down the hall slightly, she was unable to stifle the muttered, "Oughta just use your fangs, you old…" Her words were cut off as she nearly slammed into another human being.

"Laurie! Hey, you okay?"

"Angie! Yeah, fine. In fact, you're just the person I need. Come here." Laurie grabbed the phlebotomist by the hand and dragged her toward the room of the man she'd been accused of drugging.

"I can't! I have to get this draw down to the lab, stat," Angie protested.

"Look, Kaeler needs a blood draw done, it'll only take a second." Laurie grabbed her friend and steered her down the hall. "He's going to walk the blood down himself. And for reasons I don't want to get into, I don't want to do the draw." Laurie dropped her voice to a whisper as she thrust the petite brunette into the room.

"Dr. Kaeler, Angie was on the floor," Laurie explained to the waiting doctor, trying to ignore his snide expression. "She'll do the draw and you can have the vials. That way you can't accuse me of tampering with the results." She waited outside the room with Kaeler until he nodded and motioned toward the door.

"Acceptable, Nurse Bradford," and he followed her into the room.

As Angie approached the bed, both Kaeler and Laurie were surprised at the sudden change in the patient's demeanor. The earlier agitation and exhausted disorientation that Laurie had witnessed was now replaced by stunned stillness. Though his eyes still showed a measure of bewilderment, there was no mistaking the spark of hope that flared in their depths.

"Kate?" Gibbs beseeched.

Angie looked over her shoulder at Laurie, who shrugged. Feeling it was better not to play into the fantasy, the nurse spoke softly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gibbs. This is Angie; she's just going to draw some blood." Laurie moved to stand on the other side of the bed and Angie expertly slipped a needle into a vein. As Laurie watched the vials fill with her patient's blood, she watched the hope fade from his tired eyes. Sadness welled up inside of her as a sense of total desolation seemed to settle around the strong man, lining his features.

"Not Kate. Kate's dead." These words were unexpectedly cold and hard as he looked at Laurie. He was clearly struggling to gain some control of himself and his wildly fluctuating mental state with limited success. With no warning, his voice suddenly softened as he said, "I know you didn't do it. It was him. He killed Kate. He was here."

Meanwhile, Dr. Kaeler took the vials from Angie and motioned for Laurie to join him outside the room. "I'll have these analyzed immediately. If this is, as I suspect, an anti-psychotic, I'll have the pharmacy send up Cogentin for him. And when I can prove you gave it to him, I'll have your license!" Glaring contemptuously at her, he stalked off. Just then, Angie came to join Laurie outside the doorway, and the two women stared at one another.

"Did I hear that right? He's accusing you of drugging a patient?"

"Yeah. Great, huh?" Laurie tried for a laugh but it fell flat.

"Well, I know you wouldn't do it, but good luck with Kaeler." Angie briefly laid a hand on the nurse's arm as she headed toward the elevator. Only Laurie remained to hear the words spoken very softly by the emotionally distressed man in the bed.

"Miss you, Kate."


	9. Chapter 8

Endless footage of ordinary parking lot activity played on the video monitors. Three figures sat studying every nuance and every shadow each frame had to offer. Suddenly, the ringing of the cell phone shattered the strained silence in the forensics lab. Tony pretended not to notice the relief on McGee's face as the young agent rolled his neck and sighed.

"DiNozzo…" He could not keep his fatigue and irritation from coloring his response.

"Mr. DiNozzo? My name is Laurie Bradford and I'm one of the nurses assigned to Mr. Gibbs. You're listed as a contact for him." Tony listened to the quiet feminine voice and felt sweat begin to prickle along his scalp.

"Is he okay? Has something happened? I can be there in under thirty minutes," he responded instantly. As he spoke, he watched McGee gather up his PDA and jacket, while Abby waited for a gesture from him, fingers frozen in place on her keyboard.

"Yes, but don't worry, he's all right for the moment." The woman kept her voice light as she continued, "He's been asking for Tony, is that you?"

"Yes, and I'm on my cell phone, so I'm on my way. Now, tell me what's going on." He motioned for McGee to follow him as he nodded reassurance and held up the universally accepted thumb-and-pinkie phone sign to his other ear for Abby. As soon as they were clear of her lab equipment, Tony tossed the other man a set of keys.

"Mr. Gibbs was apparently drugged while in his room. He says he saw the man, claims it's someone named Ari. Does that make sense to you?" The two men maneuvered quickly through and out of the building while Tony listened to the brief explanation.

"Yes," he ground out, following McGee across the parking lot. "Go on. What was he drugged with?"

"It was an anti-psychotic, something that might be typical to calm an agitated patient, such as Mr. Gibbs with his high level of caffeine. However, this particular medication in overdose levels can cause confusion and agitation itself, which is exactly what happened. He's been given something to counteract those symptoms, but the best thing for him is to rest undisturbed and let these chemicals pass out of his system." Tony knew there had to be more and wished she would just tell him the whole story.

"What aren't you telling me? Is this going to do any permanent damage?" He gestured to McGee to drive when the other man gaped at him after they had settled themselves in the vehicle.

"No, there's no risk of permanent damage, and he's resting quietly for now. It was touch and go there for a while, though," she sighed. "Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing to him. As he comes out of this, he's likely to experience periods of confusion and agitation. He may be difficult to deal with at times."

"And that would be new in what way?" Tony muttered. "Sorry. You said 'touch and go'. What happened?"

She paused for a moment. "As I said, whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. Mr. Gibbs received enough of this drug to cause some cardiac distress. But I assure you he's stable now."

Tony clenched his jaw briefly before continuing. "Is there anything else? Did Gibbs say what he wanted from me?"

"Yes, and it's the same thing I want. I could lose my job for this, but I want you to get him out of here. Unnoticed. He needs a safe place to recuperate from this attack." Laurie blew out a breath then continued in an aggravated tone. "Look, short version is that whoever's out to get your man has somehow dragged me into it, too. I've been accused of drugging him, taken off his case and God knows what else while I've been on break talking to you." Finally, the last of the faint hesitation Tony felt in her voice was gone.

"Is that everything? Where are you now?" Tony checked the mirrors as McGee drove, looking for signs that they were being followed.

"At a gas station pay phone. It's about a half-mile from the hospital. As soon as I got the call from my friend in the lab with the blood analysis results, I knew I'd been set up too. I had a dinner break coming, so I excused myself for a personal errand. It's not uncommon, so hopefully I haven't been missed."

"And just what makes you so sure that you were set up?" Tony tried to keep the skepticism from his voice. He couldn't understand why this nurse would be involved.

"The drug that Mr. Gibbs was given was Stelazine. Same thing my mother was on before she died three months ago."


	10. Chapter 9

Tony and Laurie met face to face for the first time at the seventh floor nurses' station. "Nurse Bradford, please." Tony used his "boss" voice at its sternest.

"I'm Laurie Bradford, what can I do for you?" Tony looked down into her mossy green eyes and caught a glimpse of awareness for what was about to happen.

"Nurse Bradford? Special Agent DiNozzo." Tony gave her and her colleagues a practiced flip of his badge and ID. "I understand you've been accused of drugging a patient here, Special Agent Gibbs." It was a statement and not a question.

Laurie nodded in response. "Accused, yes. But the patient saw an intruder in his room. The patient has accused that man of drugging him."

"An intruder no one else saw, Nurse Bradford."

Laurie inclined her head. "I will grant you that the drug does cause confusion. He mistook Angie, the phlebotomist, for a woman named Kate. But it is highly unlikely that he mistook his nurse for a male intruder."

"What, precisely, happened?" Tony was unable to keep the sudden coldness from his voice.

Laurie recounted the entire night for the agent, in detail, taking her time while he took copious notes.

At the end of her narrative, he looked at her speculatively. "You seem to have left out one detail. I understand that you have knowledge of, and access to, the drug which he was given." It was a hard statement, one that he saw Laurie try to defend against.

"Everyone here has potential access to any drug, and knowledge can be found in a two minute search and scan of the internet." She said it flatly, but it was clear to both of them that she was in trouble.

Tony glanced around at the onlookers, making sure he had everyone's attention. The conversation certainly hadn't been quiet, but now he cleared his throat and used a harsher tone of voice as he spoke. "Nonetheless, Nurse Bradford, I think it would be in both our best interests if you were to accompany me back to NCIS for further questioning. I think you're holding back on me and I want answers."

* * *


	11. Chapter 10

Gibbs was hearing voices now. Or was he? With nothing in his room to occupy his mind, his thoughts chased around in his head until he was no longer sure what was real and what wasn't.

"Tony? You out there?" His voice sounded odd, hollow, and suddenly he wasn't even sure he'd spoken aloud. He shook his head to clear the fog, and was sharply reminded of a lingering pain behind his eyes, making his stomach roll with the sudden intensity of it.

Refusing to be held prisoner by his mind and body, he took a breath, as deep as he could manage against the sharp pain in his ribs, and blew it out slowly and deliberately. As stability returned, he lifted his head as far as the biting leather straps across his body would allow. He cocked his head and listened intently; that _was_ Tony out there, he was certain of it. He was just about to call out to the younger agent once more when a white-coated figure slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. The man turned warm, kindly eyes toward him and smiled. "Now, Jethro, how are you doing?"

Gibbs blinked at the man in confusion. "Ducky? I swore I heard Tony out there… I know I didn't mistake him for you." He let his head drop back onto the pillow and his eyes drifted closed. "Duck, I think I'm losin' it. I'm hearing voices now."

Ducky strode briskly to the bed and laid a hand on his friend's forehead, startling Gibbs' eyes open. "No fever," he murmured. "And no, you aren't losing anything, nor are you hearing things. That _is_ Tony at the Nurses Station."

"What's he doing out there? Get him in here now! I need to talk to him!"

"Jethro, just lie still. He's… occupied at present," the doctor began to explain as he reached for his patient's wrist and encountered the heavy leather restraint. "Damn! Sorry, my boy. Slipped my mind… Carotid will serve for the moment."

Gibbs eyed his friend as the man pressed gentle fingers to his neck and peered at his watch for a few seconds. "A bit fast and threadier than I'd like. Hm, I wish I had your chart here," the doctor muttered. He patted Gibbs' shoulder then examined the IV bags hanging at the patient's side as Gibbs caught up with Ducky's earlier words.

"Wait, what do you mean Tony's occupied? What's he up to now? He better not be hitting on a nurse!" he growled.

Ducky chuckled as he replied. "Well, not the way you think. He – that is to say, we – are facilitating your hospital discharge." He spoke the last two words in the barest of whispers, his eyes darting back and forth as if he were portraying a spy. "Tony and Nurse Bradford have staged quite a scene, so I'm told, so we mustn't waste their performance." Gibbs watched as Ducky moved to shut off the flow of IV fluid and medication, deftly removed the cannula from his arm and applied a pressure bandage.

"Sorry about this, Jethro. This will be a bit uncomfortable," Ducky apologized as he reached beneath the sheets to release the catheter.

Gibbs blew out another painful deep breath as the distasteful business was completed. He felt cool air on his body as Ducky slid the blanket and sheet to the bottom of the bed and worked at the restraints on his hands.

"None of this makes any sense, Duck. God, my head is spinning!" He laid one just-freed forearm across his eyes trying to block out the conflicting images. "I can't keep any of this straight. Why is Tony out there with Laurie? And _what_ are they doing? Why aren't they in here helping us? For that matter, why are we sneaking out of here? What about Ari? Does Tony know about him? And where's McGee? And what about that jerk of a doctor?"

Ducky pulled Gibbs' arm from his face, forcing him to focus his disjointed thoughts. "Jethro, don't take this the wrong way, but _do_ shut up." As Ducky released the final strap, Gibbs, anxious to be away, rose quickly from the bed. And nearly fell flat on the floor.

"Easy, Gibbs! You need a hospital bed, just perhaps not this one."

Gibbs took a labored breath and clung to Ducky, hating the weakness that made it necessary. "How bad am I and what are you going to do with me?"

"Right now, we're going to get you out of that terribly unfashionable gown and into something less noticeable. Then once I can examine you, I'll decide whether or not you need to go to Bethesda." Ducky directed his new patient into the small attached bathroom and handed him a large black medical bag.

"Change into these and yell if you need a hand."

Gibbs was slowly regaining his equilibrium. At the doctor's words, he gave the other man a look. "Duck, I've been dressing myself for a very long time. I think I can manage."

Ducky chuckled and closed the door behind him as he left the injured man to "manage".

Gibbs reached over his head for the first time in two days and untied the hospital gown. As it fell to the floor, he caught sight of the colorful bruising on his body in the mirror. What did the doctor say his injuries were? Did he remember hearing? Cracked or broken ribs? That explained the tape job. Concussion? Lovely purple lump on the forehead. Caffeine overdose? He hadn't had that much coffee before the accident.

_I know I only had two cups_, he told himself.

So where did all that caffeine come from?

He pulled a pair of navy sweatpants and a plain gray tee-shirt from Ducky's bag, slipped them on, and walked gingerly out of the bathroom. Ducky was waiting just outside the door.

"Okay, we're just going to walk out of here. Halfway down the hall there's a wheelchair; get in it and no arguments. I can't have you passing out on me before we're safely out of here. Then you're just along for the ride."

"That's it? Don't you think someone will notice us?" Gibbs almost shook his head in disbelief, the pain from earlier made him hesitate.

"Not if we go now." Ducky reached into the medical bag that Gibbs set down on the bed. From it he pulled an Ohio State ball cap and a pair of sunglasses. "From Tony; now put these on. Oh, and put these on your feet." He handed Gibbs a pair of slippers that had obviously been tucked in the very bottom of the bag. Then Ducky, with a huge grin on his face, handed Gibbs the medical bag, slipped an arm around the injured man's waist and walked him down the hall.

Gibbs eyed the scene at the Nurses' station as Tony prepared to read Laurie her rights before taking her in for questioning. Everyone on the floor was watching the drama unfold; only the tall man reciting the Miranda warning noticed as he and Ducky disappeared down the hallway to a wheelchair and then into the elevator.


	12. Chapter 11

There was a slight chill to the late night air as Tony and Laurie left the building from a side entrance near the employee parking area. She saw him watch as another vehicle, what looked to be a Lincoln Town Car, drove away before turning back to her. Deciding to seize the initiative, Laurie broke the silence between them before he could.

"Thanks for not handcuffing me up there," she said lightly. When she got no response from the tall man standing in front of her, she tried again, this time more serious. "Thank you, also, for getting me out of there tonight. It was getting rather uncomfortable, thanks to Dr. Kaeler and his accusations." She glanced toward her car in the parking lot, reached in her pocket and pulled out her keys.

"That wasn't just for your benefit, or to cover Gibbs' escape. I really do need you to come with me to NCIS and make a full statement," Tony told her as he laid one hand on her arm to halt her own escape. "And though you copied Gibbs' chart for me, I'm sure Ducky would welcome your input during the exam I know Gibbs will get back at headquarters."

Laurie stilled under Tony's light touch. However politely phrased this was, it wasn't a request. She was going to Washington, willingly or otherwise. Deciding not to fight the issue, she nodded and allowed herself to be led to the agent's car. He _was_ polite, she had to give him that, handing her into the car before walking to his side and getting in. But the courtesy was just that; she knew had she resisted the invitation she would have been treated as hostile. She could read that much in his eyes.

The quiet inside the vehicle grated on her nerves, however. She decided conversation was the best way to remedy that, opting to satisfy her natural curiosity as long as she had a captive audience.

"So, can you tell me anything at all about what's going on? Who exactly is this Ari person Mr. Gibbs seems so worked up over?" She watched as Tony's jaw tightened and wondered what she'd said to cause that reaction.

"Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Maybe if I know what's going on, I'll know what I'm looking for," she replied, honestly.

"He's a terrorist and a murderer."

This was worse than trying to get blood from an unwilling patient! "So Mr. Gibbs said. Why would he be after your boss in particular?"

"Because Gibbs—" At his abrupt silence, she looked up to catch his icy glare. "All of us are after him."

"Does any of this have to do with that woman, Kate? The one Gibbs thought Angie looked like?" She was unprepared for the sudden burst of acceleration that rocked the car. This was not Gibbs' sorrow or even the angry determination he had shown. This was raw fury that burned white-hot, deep inside.

She eyed his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the impossibly tight set to his jaw. Somehow, though she knew she should drop the subject, she couldn't let it go. For some reason, she felt it was important to understand who this woman was.

Softly, she asked, "Was she the member of Gibbs' team that was killed, Tony?" This time she was prepared for the shot of speed that accompanied her question.

"What's it to you?" he growled at her.

"Because it would be a lot easier to help you if I knew who all the players were, don't you think?" She continued in a gentle tone. "She obviously meant a great deal to you and to Mr. Gibbs."

"_Means_." He stressed the word. "She may be gone but she's still a part of our team and she's family to us. She _means_ a great deal to all of us." This time the glance he shot her dared her to say more on the subject. To refute his right to care for his fallen partner, since that was clearly what she was.

Instead she simply said, "I'm sorry for your loss. Of course she means a great deal to you." Then pushing where she feared she had no right, she continued. "Mr. Gibbs said 'he killed Kate'. I'm assuming he meant Ari?"

Rather than another head-snapping bolt of speed, the fight seemed to drain out of her driver just then. "Yeah, that bastard shot her with a sniper rifle while we stood not two feet from her." His words were ice, colder than anything she'd ever heard. She wondered if their hatred for this man and what he had done could be blinding them as to what was going on.

Weighing her next words carefully, she braced herself for an angry reaction. "So this terrorist is a cold-blooded killer, right? Someone who would plan something out meticulously?"

Tony's answer was a sharp exhalation and a tight nod. Laurie pressed her lips together and took a moment before continuing. "Then why would a man like that risk being caught on camera? There are dozens of them throughout the hospital; he couldn't possibly hope to avoid them all."

She was ready for an angry hit to the car's accelerator. She didn't expect the sudden braking maneuver that threw her against her seat belt. She turned to stare in shock at the unpredictable driver only to find a similar expression on his face.

"I must be slipping," he muttered. Louder, he said, "Of course he'd be on the hospital surveillance cameras." He grabbed for his cell phone, hitting his speed-dial as he eased the car back on to the road.

"McGee! We need to get all the footage from the hospital surveillance cameras. You did? Even the cameras in the parking lot? Okay, well, we're gonna need those, too. Just a gut feeling, Tim. Right. As soon as you can with that, then. Thanks, Tim." He flipped the phone closed and tossed it back on the car seat between them.

He blew out a slow breath before breaching the silence. "Look, Laurie, thanks for that. We've all been a little on edge since Kate… since Ari escaped. I shouldn't take it out on you. As far as the cameras, I should have thought of it myself."

"It sounded like someone did, though," she replied, cautiously. She didn't want Tony to shut down again.

"Yeah, McGee. He got most of the tapes we need, but I want the ones from the parking areas, too. You're right, this bastard's cunning. But we'll up our chances of catching him on film if we have the exterior security footage as well."

"So how do I fit into all of this? I didn't see the man Mr. Gibbs claims was in his room."

"Did you see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?" Tony's voice was much less angry now, obviously becoming preoccupied with the challenge of catching his terrorist on camera.

"Not that I remember," she told him. They had gone over this earlier on the phone and unfortunately, she hadn't been able to come up with any more details since then.

"Think, Laurie," he demanded. "Even the smallest detail may help us find him."

"Tony! I don't know what more to tell you. I've told you everything I can possibly remember. My best guess is it was someone disguised as hospital personnel." Exasperated with his narrow focus she blurted out her next words. "What if it isn't your pet terrorist? What if this is someone else?"

"Why would you say that? What do you know?" Once again, his voice was hard and cold.

"I don't know anything! Except that I think your feelings about your friend's death are blinding you to any other possibility." She immediately regretted her words. She really hadn't meant to bring up Kate again, but her frustration with his single-mindedness had the words out of her mouth before she could censor them.

Tony pressed his lips together as he glanced at her. When he spoke after another minute of uncomfortable dead air, his voice was tight and low. "I think you're wrong, but I'll keep it in mind." His grip on the steering wheel was once again white-knuckled, his face closed and unreadable. She didn't speak for the remainder of the drive, leaving the frosty silence between them undisturbed.


	13. Chapter 12

From the fourth level of the hospital parking structure, a shadowy figure stood watch. Through night vision binoculars, he'd seen the arrival of two NCIS Special Agents. He'd also seen the arrival of another man, older, presumably from the same agency, all three recognized from photographs as men associated with the target.

He'd watched their departure, one agent with the older man and a patient in his car and the other agent with a nurse in the agency car. Smiling to himself, he waited until all were away and then pulled a cell phone from his pocket and pressed a speed dial number.

"Yes?"

"Exactly as you predicted, Sir. They just left with the target."

"Excellent. I don't suppose you were able to find out where they were taking him."

"No, Sir. I was unable to get close enough to hear any conversation."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then, "That's all right. I imagine he'll be staying either with one of the other agents or at NCIS. We'll track him from here for now. Good work."

"Thank you, Sir. Is there anything else I can do here?"

"Not at this time. We'll be in touch." With that, the line went dead and the figure in the parking structure made his way down and out. He slipped through the surrounding trees and onto an adjacent street where he walked calmly to a yellow motorcycle.


	14. Chapter 13

Aw, Duck! Is this really necessary?

Ducky finished drawing blood from his unhappy patient. Let me call Abby and have her come get these vials and then we'll get you thoroughly checked out, Jethro.I'll be fine, Duck, really, Gibbs muttered, rolling his eyes. Just let me get some decent sleep in my own bed. His words were accompanied by the sound of the Autopsy doors hissing open.

Hey, Boss. I've got it all set up wow! That _is_ a nasty purple lump on your forehead, isn't it? That must really hurt. McGee stopped dead and stared at his superior.

What do you want, McGee?Timothy will have to wait, Jethro. I need to take a look at those ribs, Ducky said, inserting himself between the two men. He helped remove Gibbs' shirt and began removing the wrappings. I'll need to get an x-ray, since our unauthorized departure left me without a proper set of records. Gibbs began his protests anew, just as the Autopsy doors swished open to admit Agent Balboa.

Ducky, you're still here! I was just going to drop off those files from Corporal Hersch's doctor. Hey, Gibbs, McGee, Balboa greeted the other agents, then asked, Were you waiting for some tapes from a hospital? They just arrived; I dropped em off with Abby.Thanks, Balboa. I appreciate it. McGee told him.

As he turned to leave, Balboa couldn't resist commenting on Gibbs obvious injury. Hey, Gibbs, nasty purple lump on your forehead! That must really hurt. He walked away, shaking his head.

Gibbs shot a glare at the departing man before fixing his gaze on the junior agent.

What are you still doing here, McGee? Get on those tapes!But, Boss, we have to discuss security for you, the junior agent protested.

Not until after I've finished this examination. Now, Jethro, please lay down so I can— Ducky was interrupted as the doors to Autopsy slid open once again. Oh, what is this? Grand Central Station? he muttered in exasperation as Tony and Laurie entered the brightly lit facility.

Hey, Duck! I thought you might have a few questions for Gibbs' nurse, so we came down here as soon as we got back. Tony then turned and took his first good look at Gibbs. Oh, hey, Boss. That's one ugly lump on your forehead. That must really hurt.

Ducky hid a smile, as Gibbs looked ready to snarl at the younger man. Nice to finally meet you, my dear, he said to Laurie, attempting to regain control of the situation one more time. Now, let's get this exam Once again, the coroner was interrupted by the swish of the Autopsy doors and he had to resist the urge to throw his hands up in frustration.

He watched as Hurricane Abby tore through the room, rushing up to Gibbs only to stop short. As she spoke she bounced lightly on her feet, as if she were only barely containing the impulse to wrap her arms around the man.

Abby, the blood vials are over there— Ducky began.

I came down as soon as I could. Wow, Gibbs, that's a really purple lump on your forehead. You know, that's a pretty cool color! I have some nail polish that's that exact She trailed off at the stares of the men around her. I'll bet it hurts, she added quietly.

Yes, I have a lump on my head! Yes, it hurts! Now can we all please stop talking about it? growled the wounded man.

Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs! Calm down! Yelling is _so_ not good for you, Abby responded. Ducky, I'll get the tox screen started as soon as I get back upstairs; I should have your results in a couple of hours. So what was our fearless leader shot full of, anyway? Laurie replied, holding out her hand to the dark-haired girl. Laurie Bradford, Mr. Gibbs' nurse. Before the Stelazine he'd apparently had a caffeine overdose.

Abby laughed. Gibbs? Not possible. I've seen that man drink half a dozen large coffees and never twitch. He'd have had to take it straight IV in massive quantities to have a

Abby's words quieted the crowded room, as Tony caught Abby's stare and transferred his gaze to McGee who then stared at Gibbs. Ducky watched them as the realization hit home for each of the team members.

I know I only had two cups of coffee Thursday morning, Gibbs supplied. As one, Tony, McGee and Abby all turned to Ducky. Tony asked the question.

Could he have been injected with enough caffeine to cause an overdose, Duck?It's certainly possible. But why would anyone want to go to that kind of effort? Why not just poison him?Thanks, Ducky, Gibbs said, dryly.

Well, Ducky has a point, Gibbs, Abby responded. Why give you a caffeine OD and then dose you with a drug for psychotic anxiety? What's he up to?Maybe he's trying to make me look crazy, Gibbs muttered, as he raised a shaking hand to his brow. It was clear that he was tiring.

Once again the doctor noticed as a look passed between the two agents. It was Tony who spoke, however. You know, Boss, that's not such a crazy idea.Yes, well, I have an idea, Ducky interjected. How about if I examine my patient before he passes out? Will all of you kindly take this discussion elsewhere?

Abby stepped closer to Gibbs and rested her hand on his arm briefly. I just needed to know you were okay, Bossman. You take it easy; we'll get to the bottom of this. Then she turned to McGee. I'm going to start going over those tapes. Join me when you're done here, okay? And with that she left, blood vials in hand, the swish of the doors behind her.

Tony looked at McGee, before turning to the coroner. I'm staying with Laurie. When she's done with you, Duck, I'm taking her upstairs to get her statement.

McGee chimed in, I'm not letting him out of my sight. We have security issues to discuss.Oh, very well! Just stay out of the way, then. Laurie, my dear, would you be so kind as to tell me about the caffeine overdose? Ducky positioned Gibbs for a chest x-ray and motioned for the unwanted audience to move behind the shield as he set up the portable machine.

I'm afraid I wasn't in ER with Mr. Gibbs, so all I know is what was in his chart. She waited until the doctor had finished setting up the X-ray machine, then handed over the copy of Gibbs' chart she had made and smuggled out of the hospital. When I saw him he seemed much calmer, although desperate to get free and go after some man named Ari.

Once the X-rays were complete, the group loosely ringed the table where Ducky continued his examination of the bruised and battered body of his friend. And what happened with the Stelazine?I don't honestly know. I know I didn't give it to him, and he believes me. Laurie paused and Gibbs nodded.

I saw him, Ari stood there in the room with a surgical mask. Once I'd seen him he put the mask back on and took off. He had to have been the one to give it to me. Laurie came in afterward, but by then I was already out of it.How much was he given? Tony asked.

Nearly three times the normal dose, Laurie said quietly. Any more than that and it would have been fatal. Your terrorist certainly knew what he was doing.And I assume it was injected? Ducky continued.

There was evidence that his IV line had been tampered with. It's a safe assumption. Laurie agreed.

He's very lucky this wasn't fatal. How are you feeling now, Jethro?Like a science experiment, the patient muttered irritably.

He sounds pretty normal to me, Tony volunteered.

Ducky merely rolled his eyes and continued. And his ribs? I've taken x-rays, but what was the diagnosis at the hospital, Miss Bradford?Two cracked, Doctor. Again, it appears he was lucky.Mmm, save for that lump on his head. All right, my friend. Provided you take it easy for the next couple of days, and keep those ribs taped, I'll release you. But only into the custody of one of these two gentlemen. Ducky stared into angry blue eyes.

Ducky, this is ridiculous! I have work to doBoss, _we_ have work to do. Don't you dare try and shut us out again, Tony interrupted. Abby already has proof that your car was tampered with and we're trying to trace your attacker from the hospital surveillance tapes. We're a team, Gibbs.

There was a moment of silence before Gibbs let out a sigh. I was only trying to protect you, too, he said quietly. But you're right. We all lost Kate, we all have a right to avenge her. The coroner met his gaze as he continued. I draw the line, however at staying with either one of them, Gibbs told him. I'm going home to my own bed.Uh, Boss, that's not such a good idea, McGee chimed in. Now it was McGee's turn to receive Gibbs's glare and Ducky tried not to chuckle. McGee stood his ground, though and pressed on.

Your car was tampered with in a secured parking lot and you were attacked in a hospital full of surveillance. Going home without security, Boss McGee shook his head.

Then, I'll just stay here, the older man ground out, frustration apparent in his voice.

Tony began, but his superior cut him off.

End of discussion, DiNozzo.


	15. Chapter 14

Music greeted McGee on his entrance to the forensics lab, the pulsing rhythms vibrating through his body as the doors closed behind him.

Hey Abbs, new tunes? he yelled, hoping to be heard over the driving electronic refrain.

Abby looked up at him before going over to turn down the volume. she replied. The Crystal Method. A friend recommended it. You ready to look over those tapes now, McGee?Definitely. I guess we should startWith what I already found, Abby cut him off with a smug tone.

What, you found something that fast? Abby always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone but Gibbs. McGee hoped she'd struck gold again.

You tell me. I have a shot of a masked orderly going into Gibbs' room at about the right time for the IV tampering. Her fingers danced across the keyboard brining up an image of a man at the door to a hospital room in a busy hallway. Unfortunately he has his head bent. We can't even get a good look at his eyes.Are you sure that's him?Yeah. Take a look at this. Abby's quick fingers tapped out another key sequence and a second image appeared next to the first. It was clearly the same man, this time just exiting the room. The time stamps on both photos showed that they were taken a little more than a minute apart.

Well, this, at least, proves what Gibbs and Nurse Bradford were saying, McGee commented as Abby held up one finger.

But wait, there's more! She brought up a zoom shot of the second image, one that focused on the back of the man's neck as he was turned away from the camera. There was some kind of mark – a tat, a mole, maybe a large freckle. Recognize that, McGee? she asked, proudly.

Tim just stared. In all the data that he had been through with Ari; all the facial mapping characteristics that he'd input, socio-economic background information, he'd never actually seen the man. Never been close to him, never even seen a picture of anything other than his face. Nothing in his file indicated a distinguishing feature like this, and oh, had Tim gone over his file! After Kate had died – _been murdered_, whispered his subconscious – he had studied that file like he was preparing for a final at MIT. This, this man with the mole or scar or whatever – just didn't feel right.

Abby, this guy isn't Houdini. He couldn't have left the grounds of the hospital without showing up on a camera somewhere, could he?Well, if he left on foot and hiked through the green stuff to a nearby road, then maybe. But I'd bet he'd still show up on at least one of the cameras. Abby snapped her fingers. Say, McGee, that face mapping software you developed last year? Let's put it to good use and have it scan the exit cameras; match the drivers against Ari?That's a good idea, Abbs! Tim nodded. Then we can concentrate on going through the remainder of the parking lot cameras.Don't forget the ones from the parking garage. You wanted all the outside surveillance tapes and the hospital gave us _all_ of them.

Tim simply nodded. All right then. Cue up the exit tapes and I'll get the facial recognition program set up. Then it'sDrive-in movie time! Abby chimed in, as she popped the digital surveillance tapes into the players and cued them up. I think we should concentrate on a two- to three-hour window starting with the time we know he was in Gibbs' room, Abby said as entered the specified duration into the program. 

Good enough to start, I suppose. If we don't find him anywhere in that window we can broaden the search. Tim agreed. 

Once the facial recognition software began running, Abby then turned her attention to the remaining tapes. Parking lot or garage?Lot. More open space more chance to slip away, Tim responded.

Mm, you have a point. Okay, lot it is. They each took one of the twelve tapes from the lot, leaving the stack of tapes from the garage untouched. And they each began the identical process of scanning through the same three-hour window, pausing to check each individual, hunting for the man who'd supposedly drugged their boss.

After a dozen or so minutes of silence punctuated only by the whirrs of the computer hard drives, Tim ventured a question. Say, Abbs, why do you think he's doing this?

Eyes focused on her screen, Abby answered back, Who's doing what, McGee?Ari. Why is he attacking Gibbs like this? It's not his style.

Abby glanced over at him briefly before continuing her work. This scumbag doesn't need a reason. He hates Gibbs. Who knows why he does what he does? Maybe he is trying to drive Gibbs crazy, I don't know. Her words were spoken without heat, but with more emotion than Tim had expected.

Abbs? You okay?No, McGee, I am not okay, Abby said, suddenly quiet. That that she paused, signing something that Tim supposed was obscene in the extreme. He looked at her curiously and she took a deep breath. she said with emphasis, murdered one of my very best friends. Are you okay? Is Tony? Gibbs certainly isn't. Abby shook her head. And you know what's worse? I had to hear about it secondhand from the rest of you. Somehow, I knew something was going to happen, and yet I had to sit here, helpless!Abby! You are not helpless! We need you, what you do here. Without you, all of this, we couldn't catch these guys. We'll never catch Ari. Tim tried to soothe the frustrated woman beside him.

You don't understand. This is all I've wanted to do; all my life, it's all I've ever been interested in. She turned and looked Tim in the eye as she said plainly, And now, just this one time, I wish I were field rated. That I had a gun and a badge and the right to be there when you take that bastard down. I want to put a gun to his head, I want to be the one with the right to blow him away if he so much as twitches. She turned away from him and with very deliberate motions pulled the cassette from the machine and took the next one from the stack.

Tim was taken aback. Kate's death had hit the team hard and they'd all done their share of grieving. Then they'd all sworn revenge – privately, of course. He never dreamed that Abby harbored such hatred for this man, however, and it bothered him that he hadn't picked up on it. 

It bothered him even more that this attack on Gibbs felt off for Ari. The more he thought about it, that view of the back of the man leaving Gibbs' room and what he knew from studying Haswari's dossier it just didn't fit somehow.

Apparently his silence bothered Abby, because after she loaded the next cassette and forwarded to the desired timestamp, she asked, never taking her eyes off her screen, What, McGee?Nothing! I'm just thinking. Why is he doing _this?_ It doesn't fit. It would make more sense if he took another shot at the team than to play this head game with Gibbs. He took his tape out and switched to the next one in the stack.

He's a _terrorist_. Terrorists don't _do_ logic, they do fear, McGee. Abby told him simply. You're wasting your time trying to make sense of it, just concentrate on catching him.

Tim shook his head. Even terrorists have logic, Abbs. It may not be very logical to us, but it is logic. What's Ari's logic? What's he after this time; what's he out to prove?Who cares? Abby sounded tired. _I_ don't care what his motives are. Honestly, all I want is for you and Tony to arrange for him to have an up close and personal dialogue with Allah.Abby, that's all the rest of us want, too. He took a deep breath, bracing for the backlash to his next question. But what if this isn't Ari?

Abby's eyes were fixed on the viewscreen as she scrutinized her tape. Of course it's Ari, she replied, mildly. You're just afraid to confront him.

Tim turned from his screen to stare at her in shock. Was that really how she saw him? I'm not afraid to go after him. But think about it, Abbs. Why would Ari need to come after Gibbs like this? Gibbs is already going to go after him, why not just sit back and wait for the inevitable attack?Because Ari's a control freak? Who knows? Again, what difference does it make? Abby paused and studied a figure closely on her screen before shaking her head and resuming her scan.

Tim sighed. Okay, let's say, for the sake of argument, that it is Ari, deliberately doing all this. He gets us to, what? Go charging off after him and what? He stared into his viewer watching the empty parking area as the timestamp showed the hour tick past.

Into a trap! McGee! You're brilliant! Abby grabbed him and kissed him on the forehead. Of course that's why he'd come after Gibbs like this. To get us to go charging after him and right into a trap! This is why you need a plan! Now aren't you glad you listened to me!

Tim closed his eyes for a moment. Keeping up with Abby's thought processes was a full time job some days. This felt like double duty. Abbs, you're the one who's been oh never mind. That argument was a lost cause and he knew it. Changing tactics he asked instead, So what kind of a trap would this be, do you think?I don't know. That's your job, not mine, she replied, taking her second tape from the machine and setting it aside.

Yeah, that's the problem. I can't quite figure it out either. Tim finished searching his second tape as well and ejected it. He switched tapes, keeping his thoughts to himself as he puzzled over the situation. 

Ari preferred direct strikes to this oblique game. Case in point: the bomb he had placed under Gibbs' café table. Its twofold purpose had been elegant. Although it failed to kill its target, it succeeded in distracting Gibbs from pursuing his nemesis. 

Kate's death was an unexplained mystery. He didn't really accept Tony's theory was it was Ari's way of tormenting Gibbs in perpetuity, nor did he agree with Gibbs' belief that it was the cleanest way to fracture the team. In any case, both the bomb and the shot were actions, not merely mind games. Inducing psychoses, making you doubt your sanity? Not Ari's style.

This logic vied with the death threats he remembered Gibbs receiving, mind games in their own right. Those, coupled with Gibbs' own certainty that Ari was the man he'd seen in his hospital room had Tim uncertain as to whether or not his other person' theory was valid. As he scanned his third parking lot tape, he weighed both sides of the argument and came up with nothing. Except the nagging feeling that he was missing something. Something important.

Just as he was about to start his fourth tape, his phone rang. 

he answered, distractedly.

Ah, yes, Timothy. Would you be so kind as to do me a favor? Ducky's voice inquired.

Sure Ducky, what can I do for you?The deli down the way has just opened for breakfast and I've called in an order. I'm afraid, however, that I don't dare leave Gibbs unattended, even though he's dozing at the moment. Could you go pick up breakfast for me? It's all paid for.Sure, Ducky, Tim nodded and looked around for his discarded suit jacket. I'll be back in a few minutes.What was that all about? Abby wanted to know, as Tim closed up his cell phone and prepared to leave.

Ducky ordered breakfast from the deli, asked if I'd pick it up. You want anything? He patted his pockets looking for his keys.

Ew, from that place? I'll wait and go get something from the Veggie Bar when they open in a couple hours, Abby told him.

Okay, I'll be back in a little bit then.

------

Tim did as Ducky bid, picking up the take out order the doctor had called in for his cranky patient. _Cranky Yeah, that about covered everyone's mood at the moment_, he thought. Shifting the containers in his arms, the savory aroma hit him full on, reminding Tim how long it had been since he last ate. Over the rumble of his stomach, he hoped that he and Abby would find their scumbag soon. Then maybe they could all take a break, get some food and a nap. Had he really gone a fully day straight without sleep? If he and Tony didn't get a break soon, they were going to start looking like Gibbs did yesterday when they saw him at the hospital.

Twenty minutes after Ducky called him, Tim entered Autopsy carrying breakfast for the two men there. Handing the bag to Ducky, he looked around. Where's Gibbs?Asleep in the changing room. There's a sofa in there. Thank you very much for this, Timothy. I know Jethro will appreciate the food. Ducky smiled at the young man.

There's no coffee here. He gestured at the bag and winced at the thought of his boss without his morning beverage.

Ducky snickered and grinned conspiratorially at the young agent. I made some decaf. It will have to do for now,

Tim nodded, then he felt his earlier concern resurfacing. Hey Ducky, while I'm here, can I ask you a question?Of course you can, my boy. What can I do for you?Could the combination of caffeine and the anti-psychotic drug cause Gibbs to see something well, less than clearly? Tim hated the way he was asking the question, but he didn't want to lead the doctor into an answer.

It could, the doctor mused. Is there something in particular you had in mind?

Tim sighed. Is it possible to mistake one object for another, or one person for another under the influence of these drugs?Oh, you mean the way he mistook that phlebotomist for Kate, Ducky nodded.

He mistook someone for Kate? At the doctor's nod, he continued, So if he were expecting to see Ari in his room and a man looked enough like him, then Tim trailed off and waited for Ducky's reaction. He had the satisfaction of seeing surprise on the doctor's face. Thanks Ducky. You've been a big help. I appreciate it. At least I know _I'm_ not crazy. Tim didn't wait for Ducky's reaction before he headed out of Autopsy and back up to the lab.


	16. Chapter 15

Abby! I think we need to go back through all the tapes! Tim was speaking as the doors to the lab slid open. His words were swallowed by pounding waves of music and rather than trying to make himself heard over the din, he headed for the sound system controls to lower the volume. Hey! Hands off the tunes! And you don't have to shout.

Rolling his eyes, he ignored her comments and repeated his previous statement.

We're three-quarters of the way through the Surveillance Film Festival and you want to start over? Why?

Tim had a pretty good idea what Abby's reaction would be to his next words, so he shot them out like bullets from a MAC-10. Because I just finished talking to Ducky and it's possible that because of the drug interaction that Gibbs only _thinks_ he saw Ari—McGee, we are not having this discussion! We already agreed that we're trusting Gibbs. He said he saw Ari, so that's who we're looking for on these tapes. She turned away from him, unwilling to continue the conversation.

Did anyone tell you that Gibbs mistook a phlebotomist for Kate while he was drugged? Tim snapped back in frustration.

Abby spoke without lifting her eyes from her work. No. But didn't you say that hallucinations were _possible_? Does it really surprise you that he'd see Kate? She paused and looked up at him earnestly. Wouldn't you want to see her just one more time? I know I would. But that doesn't mean that Gibbs hallucinated everyone he saw. Let's be realistic here, okay? We know Ari's after him, why shouldn't we believe him if that's who he says he saw? She turned back to her work, effectively shutting him down.

Abby. Abby! He let out a frustrated sigh and turned toward the stack of finished tapes on the lab table. Fine, you keep searching for Ari. I'm starting over from the beginning and checking out anyone suspicious. My gut tells me that we're making a mistake by only looking for one man.And my gut tells me that you don't care as much about catching Kate's killer as you say you do, McGee! Abby said very quietly eyes never leaving the screen she was watching.

Believe what you want, Abbs, Tim said tiredly. I care about catching them both. If they're the same man, then that just makes it easier.

They worked in an uncomfortable silence, Tim starting with the tapes of the parking lot exits that the facial recognition software had previously scanned. He stifled a yawn and glanced sidelong at Abby to see her lips pressed together in irritation when she saw which tapes he was working with. He expected some sort of rebuke, but she said nothing and her continued silence only made him even more aware of the extra work he was creating. If only she weren't so unwilling to see the situation from his point of view, this wouldn't seem so damn frustrating. Yanking out the first tape, he kept himself from slamming it down, not wanting to seem petulant, even though he was certain he was right.

A short while later, she let out an excited yelp and slugged Tim in the shoulder.

Well, score one for easier, because I just found him. There's your man, McGee. Now tell me that's not Ari! She sat back and pointed to the screen triumphantly. The image it showed was of a man, unaware of the camera that captured him. His head was slightly turned, but he'd clearly made no effort to hide from this camera as he had the ones inside the hospital. The picture wasn't the best one Tim had seen and he checked the identifier on the camera. This one, he realized was one of the newer cameras that had been installed, the angle excellent for capturing license plates of cars, lousy for people's faces. He only hoped they had enough for Abby to work with.

Is there any way to enhance that? he asked. Then maybe we can run it against the facial recognition software for a positive match. His pulse quickened as he realized where the man was standing. The dirtbag had a clear view of the door they'd used to exit the hospital last night – and the timestamp at the bottom of the screen indicated that he likely had been a witness to Gibb's liberation. 

he said, as he pointed to the timestamp, This guy, whoever he is, may know we've moved Gibbs!

Abby didn't bother to comment. She was busy working electronic magic on the still frame from the digital tape. As the image became clearer with each pass, Tim watched details come into focus. 

Hey Abbs, that look like an ID badge from the hospital to you?Yeah, I think so. Think our guy really is a hospital employee? She paused and looked up at him.

Dunno, but I'm definitely gonna check it out.

She continued to sharpen the image further and a moment later Tim uttered a soft comment. We've got him now. Check it out.A cigarette! Abby cried, spying the object in their man's hand. If we can get the butts, Tim reminded her. He immediately called the local LEOs to request their help in collecting the potential evidence left behind. Thankfully, aware of Gibbs' accident and the incident at the hospital, the locals were both helpful and cooperative. Tim agreed to drive out later that day and pick up whatever butts were bagged. 

Excited as he was with these discoveries, however, as the face became more distinct, he found himself growing more and more uneasy. Finally Abby brought the recognition software online with the enhanced image. But by now, Tim didn't need to wait for computer clarification. He knew his quarry's face, had studied the characteristics for input into the original search and dissected the dossier on the man after Kate's death. The computer's analysis flashed on the screen in red letters, as his own, in complete agreement, was torn from his lips.

Abby, that's not Ari


	17. Chapter 16

Morrow was beyond furious. Any idiot could see that, and even in his condition, Gibbs was no idiot. He rubbed his hand across his face and looked around at the incongruity of the Director pacing in front of the body coolers as he chastised his Chief Medical Examiner and one of his Senior Team Leaders.

What the _hell_ were the two of you thinking? I expect this sort of behavior from you, Jethro, from time to time, but never from you, Doctor!Sir, if I may— Ducky began.

No, you may not! This is where you get reamed out, Doctor. You get to present your defense when I've calmed down. Besides, I want to deal with my agent first. He may have need of a coroner by the time I've finished with him. Well, Gibbs?

Gibbs stood there a moment longer, gathering himself. Bless Ducky for feeding him; it was probably all that was keeping him on his feet at the moment. He was still tired, his ribs hurt, his head was throbbing thanks to Morrow's shouting, but he'd survived much worse. _Suck it up, Marine_, he told himself. Time to take care of those who took care of him.

Sir, I didn't feel safe in the hospital after someone drugged me in my room. I asked my team to get me out and they did. I take full responsibility for this incident, he said stiffly, eyes downcast.

The doctor's own eyes shot up at his old friend's confession'. Gibbs, please, Morrow began, with a snort. I do know what restrained means. You weren't able to call anyone. This scheme has DiNozzo written all over it and I plan to talk to him as well. I simply thought it would be proper to dress down the senior members of the team in private. He stood on the opposite side of one of the pristine metal tables from the other two men and glared.

Do either of you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have arranged for security for a patient who is no longer in the hospital? The director leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. As he closed the distance he lowered his voice, making the angry tone sound even more menacing. Not just no longer there,' but one that seems to have effected his own release without the consent of his doctor? And encouraging DiNozzo in something like this

Gibbs tried not to grimace as Morrow wound up for what threatened to be a lengthy tirade.


	18. Chapter 17

The agent in question looked up from his desk and the statement he'd been rereading, to see McGee and Abby approaching, neither one looking particularly happy.

What's up, you two? Tony set the papers carefully aside in favor of the anxious couple.

We've think we've found Gibbs' attacker on one of the hospital surveillance cameras, Abby cut in, before McGee could speak. Only McGee insists it's not Ari.I thought Gibbs was certain he saw Ari. If the man you found isn't him, then who is he? 

Abby fidgeted as McGee picked up the conversation. I don't know, Tony. This guy has a distinctly different look about him in certain key facial characteristics. Here, see for yourself. He stepped behind his desk and with a few keystrokes brought up a split screen picture on the plasma. The first was the original camera shot of their suspect and the second was Abby's enhanced picture. He motioned with the controller and said simply, That's not Ari, Tony.

Tony walked over to the screen and tilted his head. How can you tell, McGee? he asked, perplexed, after a moment. As the younger man began to point out certain bone structure and facial contours that didn't match up, Tony held up a hand. Okay, whatever. Did you run it against that facial recognition software, just to be sure?

As Tim assured Tony that he had, and that the software had come back with a negative match, Abby huffed out a disgusted breath. Both men turned to look at her and Tony moved from the plasma to his friend's side. Abbs? What's wrong?I know what the technology says, she said, seeming to dismiss the very thing she built her career around. But this time, my gut agrees with Gibbs. This is Ari. We _have_ to get him, Tony. We have to get him for Kate; before he gets Gibbs.We'll get him. And keep in mind, just because _this_ may not be Ari, doesn't mean he's not behind the attacks, he told her.

Tell that to McGee! He seems to think that this is someone or something else altogether. She gave the other man a petulant glare and added, I think he just doesn't care whether we get Ari or not.

Tony turned to stare at her in absolute shock. _What_? Abby, _nobody_ has studied Ari more than Tim has. Every day since Kate died he's spent hours trying to find a way to catch that son of a bitch. If you think he doesn't care about avenging Kate's death, you couldn't be more wrong. His voice cut through the girl's anger in a way that Tim's could not.

Then why does he keep saying this might not be Ari behind this? Why is he looking for an excuse not to go after him? Abby's green eyes shone with emotion she seldom showed.

I don't know. McGee?This doesn't feel right. These attacks on Gibbs aren't Ari's style. It's not that I don't want to go after that asshole, but I don't want to be going after the wrong man and leave Gibbs unprotected against another threat. If this is someone else, let's think about it for a minute. Gibbs has too many enemies to discount all of them in favor of the one we most want dead. What better time to attack him and play on that weakness?

Tony ran his hand over his face. Hadn't Laurie said the very same thing to him in the car? Okay, for the sake of argument, let's assume that Gibbs is being targeted by someone else. What's the purpose of making it look like he's Tony trailed off. He looked up at the other two, tapping a finger to his lips as he thought. Whoever it is, is making it look like Gibbs is obsessed with Ari, he said slowly as he worked through the evidence.

He heard Laurie's voice in his head, her words came back to him now as clearly as if she were next to him, telling him they were all obsessed. Shoving that thought aside, he continued his own thought aloud.

Making him look like he isn't sleeping, drinking too much coffee, chasing after phantoms, having hallucinations'. What's the point? he mused. To push him over the edge, get him to crack? To give him more fuel for his obsession? No, that doesn't make any sense. To get him out of the way for some reason?

McGee saw the logic in Tony's last statement immediately. Yes! If Gibbs is obsessed with Ari, then how can he run an effective team? Then what happens with us, if Gibbs

Abby cut him off. So that's it. You're just going to go with this theory and forget about the man that killed your partner, she stated flatly.

McGee, tired of Abby's single-mindedness and irritable from lack of sleep, rounded on her. No, we're not just going to forget about Kate's killer. But are you honestly that unwilling to look at the bigger picture, Abbs? Would you rather we ignore this possibility and maybe let Gibbs die too? Shall we go to another funeral? Cry for another agent who shouldn't have had to die? Dammit, Abby! Someone attacked Gibbs! If it wasn't Ari, then don't you think we should catch that asshole too? Or should we just let him keep coming until Gibbs is dead?I'd rather you didn't. Gibbs' voice caused them all to turn.

Sorry, Boss, McGee mumbled.

Don't be sorry, tell me what you've got, McGee.

The group recounted the evidence Abby and Tim had found. Tony took the plasma controller and clicked through the various shots Abby had isolated from the tape, displaying the nearly unreadable ID badge and the hand with the cigarette along with the Abby's close-up of the suspect's face.

I have to head out to pick up whatever the local LEO's managed to find for us, Tim finished, glancing at his watch.

Send someone, if you can, Gibbs told him. I need you here. He then turned his attention to the enhanced photograph. He studied it carefully and, as he was the only one in the group who'd had a look at Ari, face-to-face, they waited for his assessment. After a long moment, he had to agree with Tim, the person in the picture wasn't Ari. It certainly could have been the man he saw.

Tony seemed to be the only one to note Abby's reaction as she folded her arms tightly across her chest and turned slightly away from the men. He was about to reach out to her when Gibbs stepped over to her, bumped her shoulder gently with his and gave her a rare smile.

So, Boss, Tony continued the discussion as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, for Abby's sake. Do you think it could still be Ari behind this? Or is this someone else?Yeah, any other any enemies we should be checking out? Tim chimed in.

Who else have I pissed off recently? You want a list, McGee? Gibbs asked with a half grin.

Well, we didn't exactly make friends with that Deputy Secretary when Tony went undercover to recover those Iraqi artifacts, McGee supplied.

I don't think the Deputy Secretary of State is sending an assassination team after Gibbs, Abby muttered scathingly.

I'm sorry, you pissed off _who_? Tony asked, looking between the two men.

Gibbs waved away DiNozzo's comment and frowned in thought. What about that spook when Tony and Kate were in Ciudad del Este? I don't think I made a new friend in the CIA. And that could still be connected to Ari, since I did threaten to expose him as our al-Qaeda mole in order to get my way.Any others, Boss? Tony tried to look innocent as he asked, but his tone didn't quite manage it, and he received a smack on the head for the comment.

McGee, you figure out who the hell our scumbag is. Gibbs directed as he eyed the lab-tech standing quietly to his side. Come on, Abbs, he said, slipping an arm around the dark-haired girl. Let's go down to your lab and see what else you have for me. The pair was halfway to the elevator when Gibbs turned back.

Oh, and DiNozzo, he called, I believe Director Morrow would like a word or two with you.

Tony swore for a moment he saw a flash of pity on the older man's face.


	19. Chapter 18

The elevator doors closed in front of the two of them, insulating them in a pocket of virtual silence. Gibbs glanced sidelong at Abby but the dark-haired girl stared straight ahead. He shifted his gaze to match hers, becoming aware of the faint sounds of her agitation. The quiet but steady thump of her boot on the floor, the soft susurration of her rubber bracelets against her lab coat, the slight rustle of her pigtails. He said nothing to her, her unwillingness to speak evident in the lines of her stance.

The doors parted and she was out like a shot, headed for her lab. He followed at only a slightly slower pace, waiting for her to burn through her angry energy.

He was barely next to her when she began to speak, her words directed at him, but her gaze on her lab table as she deftly worked the mechanics laid out.

You probably already figured out that your brakes were tampered with, but it was a really impressive piece of work, Gibbs. She moved to one of what appeared to be two identical displays, her words short and crisp.

Gibbs merely nodded and she continued on with a rapid-fire explanation of the sabotage to the braking system, never pausing, never looking up.

Also, I believe your seatbelt was tampered with. She leaped to the next issue as quickly as she hurtled through her previous explanations, and though he was barely keeping up with her words, he didn't try to slow her down.

I've taken apart the seatbelt mechanism here. Parts of this look like the dirt and gravel were forced into the ratcheting wheel, not just lodged there on their own. He looked at the pieces she held, but she was already putting them back, moving on to the next topic.

I'm scanning traffic cameras, hoping to track our POI from the hospital, she explained as she seated herself in front of her computer, fingers slapping the keys rapidly as she punched up various images on to the plasma for him.

He sighed and walked over to the screen, waiting. There was more, he knew, and it wasn't about the evidence. 

I've also set up the facial recognition program to run a search on the DMV's in Virginia and Maryland. She brought up another screen for him to view as she continued. I thought maybe we might get lucky there. Gibbs, why do you suppose McGee is so willing to believe that this has nothing to do with Ari? 

She ran the words together enough so that it took him a second or two to catch her question. _Ah, now we get to the heart of the problem_, he thought. That bother you? he asked, casually.

Well, yeah! Everyone knows Ari's been after you for months. Ever since Kate died, hunting him down has been the only priority. She finally raised her face to his.

That's true, he mused. But we have made other enemies, Abbs. And it may be that one of them has come back to haunt us now. 

So, what? We just drop the search for Kate's murderer? 

He heard the underlying anger and bitterness in her voice. No, Abby. Never. We just have two cases to work, that's all. the goth girl whispered with quiet venom as she turned back to a video scan on screen.

He waited until she looked at him, green eyes meeting blue.

Gibbs, no one's taken the time to really mourn for Kate. Did you know that? Tony, McGee, even me, we've all just been focused on catching that bastard that killed her. If you take that away, what happens to us then?

Her words surprised him, though truthfully they shouldn't have. It was his team, he should have been aware of it. From the minute Special Agent Todd was murdered on that rooftop, it was a crime scene, business as usual. Then a case. An unsolved case, one they'd been working non-stop. Kate's body had been laid to rest, but had any of them allowed themselves a moment to lay their feelings to rest?

You're right. And maybe, in some way, this is our grief. I know it is for me. I lost a team member; I have to live with knowing that that shot might have been meant for me. I grieve every day as I walk around, knowing that she's dead because of her association with me.

There was silence for a moment then Abby asked softly, Does it get any easier? Has it gotten easier for you?It never gets easier, Abbs, he said gently as he slipped an arm around her and gave her a hug. You simply learn to go on.


	20. Chapter 19

Tony strode back into the bullpen, ignoring Tim's curious gaze. Bypassing his own desk, Tony found himself standing at the large window, staring into the bright morning light, watching the parking lot slowly fill. As agents and staff, all moving in the same direction, made their way into the building with purpose he found himself questioning the direction in which he was headed.

Morrow had been justifiably enraged at Gibbs' jail-break', especially since, as the director took great pains to tell him, he'd just finished setting up security for the injured team leader. He had no patience for Tony's attempted rationalizations, reminding the agent that there were protocols to be followed. Morrow's words still echoed in his ears, Dammit, DiNozzo, you owed me at least a phone call! Even Gibbs gives me that much courtesy!

Sighing tiredly, he ran a hand across his face as he turned and walked back over to his desk. He chose not to sit; in fact, he seriously wondered if he had any ass left on which to sit. Instead, he glanced over at his teammate and noticed that the sharp daylight streaming through the windows only served to underline the exhaustion in Tim's face, certain that it mirrored his own. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to go home and get some sleep.

Sensing a slight change in Tim's attitude, Tony spoke, just as the other man opened his mouth; almost Gibbs-like in his ability to cut Tim off before he'd uttered a sound.

Find something, McGee? Tony queried, as McGee paused in his typing.

Actually, I think I have. Take a look at this. Tim nabbed the controller for the plasma screen and with one click an enlarged hospital ID badge bearing a familiar face appeared.

Tony breathed in a coldly quiet voice, no longer tired.

Not quite. Meet Paolo Muñez. Another click and a scant page of information appeared next to Paolo's picture as Tim recited what he'd discovered. Turns out he really is a hospital orderly. He has no criminal record in this country, but he's an Argentinean national. And in that country he had ties to organizations run by Escopeda.The crime boss involved with that spook consultant, Purcell? Tony said, surprised, as he came over to stand in front of Tim's desk.

Yes. And, conveniently, Paolo is a dead ringer for Ari, Tim pointed out needlessly.

Tony shot him a look of impatience, leaning one hip on the edge of McGee's desk, while he pieced together the bits of information they had. Who, besides Ari, would need an Ari look-alike to stalk Gibbs? And what was the connection with South America?

It doesn't make any sense, McGee, Tony mused aloud. Switching into a heavily accented Spanish voice, he rubbed his thumb across the tips of his fingers. Escopeda's in it _para el dinero_. He dropped the accent and turned to the other man. Why would Ari, or anybody, go all the way to the TBA for something like this?I don't know if he did. Paolo has been employed at the hospital for the past six months. It could just be a coincidence. At that, Tony glared at Tim. But if we follow the money, we should be able to find out who and why— As he spoke, the elevator doors slid open, catching his attention. Oh, no. I think someone may not want us to know who or why.

Tony glanced over his shoulder and closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for the inevitable verbal fencing match. he bit out as the man approached. How nice of you to stop by. No coffee this time? The words were laced with sarcasm.

Agent DiNozzo, Agent McGee. Fornell stopped in front of Tony's desk. Allow me to express my deepest sympathy on your loss. Fornell's sentiment, though apparently sincere, made the hair on the back of Tony's neck rise.

Thank you, Tim said quietly.

What do you want, Fornell? You're a couple of months too late for a condolence call.

Fornell turned and stepped toward the empty desk next to Gibbs'. When he started to lean casually against it, Tony was powerless to stop the snarl that erupted from his throat. Shifting his stance, the older man turned and rested himself on the edge of Gibbs' desk instead.

What's your interest in this man? Fornell asked, nodding toward the plasma screen.

Who, Ari? You should know the answer to that. Tony tried to play off the resemblance to the terrorist and get Fornell to bite.

We both know that's not Haswari, Agent DiNozzo. Now, tell me, why are you checking up on him?What's it to you? Tony answered back.

I asked you first.

Gibbs walked up as Tony said coldly, I don't think so. Fornell and his Di-Not-zo' was beginning to grate on Tony's already worn-thin nerves.

Tobias! Now, what brings you to our neck of the woods? And alone, no less, Gibbs observed as his sometime-friend, sometime-nemesis squared off against his two team members.

Jethro, terrible thing, that accident. Feeling better? Fornell inquired mildly.

What do you know about Gibbs' accident? Tony interjected, before Gibbs could say a word.

Both older men eyed Tony as one would an outspoken child. Fornell directed his next statement to Gibbs, but never took his eyes off the younger man. Let's just say, I make it a point to keep an eye on my friends and business acquaintances. Now, about this man?

McGee opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a gesture from Tony. Can't help you, Fornell.

Gibbs gave the FBI agent and almost imperceptible head jerk, beckoning the man closer. What are you into this time, Tobias?Come on, Jethro, you know I can't tell you that, Fornell grinned.

But you expect us to just hand over our intel? Like Tony said, can't help you. He stepped around the other man, sat down at his desk, and began sorting through the reports that lay there.

I don't need intel on Paolo, he growled, giving them the first real indication that he knew more than he was telling. I need to know why you're sniffing after him. It was clear Fornell was growing tired of the banter.

And I need to know why you need to know, Tobias. Gibbs, on the other hand, was obviously enjoying himself.

Dammit, Jethro, you could seriously compromise an ongoing investigation!The same could be said for you, Fornell, Tony said stonily.

Fornell sighed and looked at Gibbs at the same time the senior NCIS agent said, DiNozzo, what have we got?

Tony pressed his lips together in irritation a moment before answering. Just that Paolo Muñez, our nasty little orderly, really is employed by the hospital. He also happens to be clean, at least in this country. But he has a confirmed connection to Escopeda, Purcell's contact from that case Kate and I had down in Ciudad del Este some months back.

Gibbs stood and moved to get a better look at the plasma screen as Tony talked, then looked over in surprise. This is connected to that case?Well, the connection to Escopeda is tenuous at the moment, McGee said, earning a glare from Tony.

Obviously we still need to look into Escopeda's dealings and we should probably check out whatever else Purcell was into, Tony said, tightly.

But Purcell is dead. We saw the CIA kill him, right boss? McGee chimed in.

Are you sure? Fornell asked quietly.

Well, no. Hell, I was shot at point blank range for a sting Gibbs began and the four men looked at each other.

You know, Jethro, Fornell said, leaning forward to study the man displayed on the plasma. It's often considered unhealthy to piss off the CIA. Gibbs' response was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. Flipping it open, he eyed Fornell as he spoke. Yeah, Abbs, what've ya got?

The voice on the other end of the call was loud enough that even Tony could make out part of the conversation. I found our scumbag traffic camera There was a pause and Gibbs nodded.

Abbs, we know, he told her gently, not wanting to belittle her work. Suddenly he pulled the phone away from his ear in surprise, as the signal cut off with an audible click.

Gibbs said, recovering his poise, You and Abby compare notes about our hospital orderly. I want everything on this guy from birth to right now. He then turned to the FBI agent. Fornell. I wanna know what your investigation has to do with a man that tried to poison me. Shall we? He held out a hand for the other man to precede him, and Tony watched as they headed toward the elevators, frustrated at being cut out of the loop one more time. 

As he walked away, Gibbs tossed over his shoulder, Oh, and DiNozzo, I want everything on Escopeda, Purcell and his contacts in the TBA. Especially——what they've been doing since Purcell's purported death. On it, Boss, Tony said to empty air. He looked around in disgust. He hadn't expected to hear Thanks, DiNozzo, from the older man. At least, not in so many words. But the truth was, the man was walking around safe, due mostly to Tony's efforts. Even if he did get royally reamed out for doing it. Giving a faint glare in the direction of the elevators, the tired man muttered, You're welcome, Gibbs. Next time, I'll let McGee plan the escape.


	21. Chapter 20

The silvered doors slid shut in front of the two men. Gibbs reached out tiredly and flipped the switch that would stop the elevator, the change in lighting instantly throwing the faces of the two men into sharp relief.

You know, Jethro, you look like hell.

Gibbs gave the man a wry grin. Thanks. You don't look so great yourself. So, tell me, Tobias, just what the hell is going on here? He ran a hand over his face as he waited to hear what lie Fornell would come up with first.

Fornell stood with his hands in his pockets, his head bowed slightly and gave a small smile. Come on, Jethro. You know I can't do that. Especially not in light of Special Agent Todd's shooting.

The candor surprised him. He expected more of Fornell's usual prevarication than some straight out refusal to talk. And exactly why is that? Gibbs demanded, his tone growing cold as he folded his arms and leaned back against the steel wall.

Because this is an extremely delicate investigation we have going. It's bigger that just Ari, who may or may not be a rogue double agent. And we don't need someone with a vendetta out there to fuck it up for us!Oh, come off it, Tobias! Gibbs tossed out angrily. He was not going to allow the FBI or anyone else to cover-up Ari's deceit. Delicate, my ass! You know what happened. Don't give me this— Fornell cut in. But we don't know Ari's exact role in any of it. Including Kate's death. We haven't been able to pin anything down. And as I said, there's more at stake than just your personal grudge against one man and what he may or may not have done to your team.This is bullshit, Tobias, and you know it. Gibbs turned his back rigidly on the other man and flipped the switch to start the elevator moving again.

Fornell reached past Gibbs and flipped the switch to stop. It's not bullshit, damn you! he snapped. Have you thought about He took a breath and gave a muttered Staring in to the NCIS agent's eyes, he was clearly weighing his options before he began to speak in a tight voice. Have you thought about how Al Qaeda is getting men and some of the arms they need? Sighing, he continued, We've tightened security and still they're smuggling in experts and weaponry.

Gibbs stopped and looked at his friend for a moment, silent, waiting, and Fornell slowly went on. We've been investigating just how these people are getting in and it's not pretty. We don't know if Ari is tied up in this or not, be we don't need a rogue operation going in trying to take out one man, he finished in a hard voice.

Oh, come off it! My going after Ari is hardly going to jeopardize your investigation into something like that, Gibbs growled, knowing that the FBI would have quite a network in place for such an operation.

I'm serious, Gibbs. You're to leave Ari alone, Fornell bit out, the directive sounding like it had the weight of several authorities backing it. Gibbs wondered in that brief second just how many men had agreed to protect a murderer for the sake of some greater good'. Tobias was still speaking, though and he pulled his concentration back to the man in front of him. This operation is of the utmost importance and cannot be compromised under any circumstances.

Gibbs leaned back against the metal railing and studied the ceiling while he tried to piece together what the FBI could possibly have on Ari and the Hamas cell. Curiosity piqued and nearly hating himself for it, he asked quietly, What do you suspect? Not that he needed to know about Fornell's op, or even the whole Hamas cell right now. All he wanted was that bastard dead. The rest was the FBI's mess. End of story. 

Oh, no, Gibbs. This is ours. You just stay out of it, the FBI agent admonished. If we find Ari, then maybe I'll deliver him to you. But I'm not going to risk having you screw up this entire operation. Fornell started the elevator.

This time Gibbs stopped it and stepped over to the corner where Fornell had retreated. You're forgetting, he whispered, I've already been poisoned by a man you're watching. Why do you suppose that is? He had the satisfaction of watching the other man's face blanch. Leaning ever so slightly into Fornell's personal space, Gibbs asked, What do I know that affects your investigation? Face it, Tobias, you need me.Ah, hell, Jethro! That's like telling a drowning man he needs a fifty-pound weight to hang onto. He rubbed his hand across his face.

Gibbs merely gave a shrug and a small smile. Fornell shook his head in return. If my director finds out I've told you this he began, and Gibbs hid his satisfaction with Tobias' inability to cut him out of the loop after all.

Yeah, there's a lot of that going around. Just ask DiNozzo.


	22. Chapter 21

The doors to Abby's lab swished open and Tim trudged through them, feeling like he'd just left. Exhausted, he started to call out but changed his mind. Instead he plodded over to the unbearably perky girl tapping away at her computer and slumped down in the chair next to her.

Hey, Abbs, he said with a yawn. Gibbs sent me down to compare notes with you and see what more we could dig up on Paolo Muñez.Wow, McGee, you look awful, Abby noted as she drained the last of a jumbo sized Caf-Pow.

I'm dead on my feet. He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake. I know we have to get this done, but I need to get some sleep.

Abby pursed her lips and looked him over. Tell you what, give me what you have on Muñez. I'll see what I can come up with. You know where the futon is.You mean it? Surprise and hope colored his voice. Listen, Abbs, about earlier. I'm sorry I was so angry with you, I just He paused and then tried again to explain, the words coming haltingly at first. I can't let someone else I care about die. I don't know who is after Gibbs, but I'm going to protect him from every threat I can think of.

Abby nodded grudgingly. Sometimes it feels to me that the only way anyone remembers Kate is by chasing Ari. She was more than just some killer's victim, McGee, she was my friend. And I miss her. I suppose I've been hoping that after we catch him we can remember Kate the way she should be remembered.I remember Kate, Abby. He tried not to snap as he said it, taking a breath before continuing. It just hurts too much to talk about it, because there was nothing I could do to help. I wasn't even there when she died. Hell, I couldn't even finish doing the job I was supposed to! I wound up taking cover behind the car with a busted transmitter. He shoved himself angrily out of the chair and walked over to the cabinet that housed Abby's futon. He stopped and simply stared at the handles. 

she began, but he turned and cut her off.

Look, Abbs, I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about me. Let's just get this done, all right? There was a roughness to his voice that he didn't bother to hide. He walked over to her computer and inclined his head for permission to access the file on Paolo.

Abby acquiesced with a gesture as she turned away from his anger and grief. While he tapped away at the keyboard, he was aware of her behind him, her back to him, pointedly ignoring him.

Here we go, he said after a moment. Abby turned to stand beside him and he tried one more time to put things right between them.

I miss Kate, too, Abbs. But she's still with us, too. At her look, he shrugged and said quietly. Don't you see? I'm doing what she would want me to do.

Abby put her arm around him. Okay, McGee, tell me what ya got on Muñez, she said with a smile at him.

He turned back to the screen, all business now, even though he was exhausted. Not much. Just some basic background. He gestured to the meager data now up on the plasma.

Abby walked slowly around her desk to stand in front of the plasma screen. As she stared at the face that looked so eerily like Ari, she cocked her head slightly to the side.

That's it, eh? No family, no nothing? Well, Paolo, we're just going to have to get better acquainted, aren't we. She started back to her keyboard, flexing her fingers as she did so. Argentinean, hm? she muttered. And with suspected ties to Escopeda? I'd say the place to start is in Puerto Iguazú. She looked up at her suspect one more time before she glanced over at Tim. You get some rest and I'll see what I can find, okay?Thanks Abbs, he told her gratefully as he pulled the futon out of the cabinet and collapsed onto it.


	23. Chapter 22

Abby walked over to the plasma screen and pointedly ignored the large photo, focusing instead on the information compiled next to it. She now had a complete dossier on Paolo Muñez the Argentinean Dirtbag. Both his parents were long dead, killed in a rather suspicious accident. The Muñez family business, however had five worthy heirs. Two daughters; Conchita, the oldest, was married to a drug runner in Argentina. Martina, clearly the sister with the head for business, ran a thriving whorehouse just across the border in Ciudad del Este.

Paolo's baby brother Juan was living in California, tryin to stay on the straight-and-narrow. A past like his wasn't ever going to produce a squeaky-clean Yuppie, though: a couple of busts for possession were a blemish Abby wasn't surprised to uncover. Still, not too bad for this family**  
**  
Yes, it was a well-researched document, except for one small problem. Paolo's older brother Marcos. There was nothing on him. Not one detail. Anywhere. Three years ago he, too, worked for Escopeda. Then he vanished, leaving no trace, no fingerprint, no telltale ripple in the international criminal pool. It was maddening. She even unearthed the gun-running cousins in Guatemala, but she couldn't shake loose Marcos.

Just when she was getting ready to scream from the frustration of it, she felt the air pressure in her lab change – her cue that someone had just entered. She'd been expecting Gibbs for the last half-hour and now she was more than grateful for the distraction to her Marcos puzzle. She spun on her heels to greet him and keep him from waking McGee.

Before you go ballistic, just listen to me a minute. He came in here ready to drop. I told him to get some sleep and that I would work on this for a while. So just relax, Gibbs.I told him to work with you on this! Gibbs retorted angrily, obviously not willing to be so easily placated.

I know what you told him. I also know that he and Tony have been up for over thirty-six hours straight. Don't you think that, however important this is, they need some sleep?

Gibbs leveled his patented withering glare at her. She matched his look and refused to be intimidated. Finally, recognizing he would not break her, he conceded the point with a sigh. I suppose you're right. How long has he been asleep?About an hour and a half. And you're not going to disturb him, she stated definitively. I've done just fine by myself, thank you. There's only one piece of information I just can't seem to get a handle on.Okay, Abbs. You're right. Thanks for taking care of him. Now, how about if you show me what you've got. He tried not to smile as he followed the girl over to the plasma.

The Muñez family is a very naughty bunch, Gibbs. They rather thrive on bad business. Let's begin in Argentina. His older sister married a drug runner who does quite well for himself. His younger sister moved to Paraguay where she set up her own house of ill-repute with one hell of a reputation, she told him as she brought up pictures of the women. Another click brought up detailed lists of their activities, although in their home countries criminal charges were rare. Those that were charged went largely unprosecuted.

Moving north, I happened to stumble across some Guatemalan cousins with a gun fetish. Several more clicks brought up a picture of a trio of young men and a lengthy list from ATF on known violations. These boys know an awful lot about the transport and distribution of firearms. Mostly the illegal ways. Central American rebels would be lost without their services. Abby stepped back to her computer, and with a couple of mouse clicks, zoomed in on the final few entries on their ATF jacket. As you can see from the dates, their forays into the US have apparently slacked off lately.I wouldn't be too sure about that, Gibbs muttered.

What's that?Nothing. Keep going. Gibbs nodded at the screen.

Next we have Baby Brother Juan. He's trying very hard to keep his nose clean, living in California. Land of opportunity and good pot. His only known violations have been for having and smoking the wacky weed. DEA's keeping an eye on the kid, just because of his family ties. She came around and stood next to Gibbs, looking at Juan's picture, shot from a workplace surveillance camera. Kind of a shame that his whole life is working in a convenience store with no way out, loser friends and dope. Of course, when you look at who his family is she shrugged. Still, you'd think that he could do better.

She clicked the controller one more time. And now we get to the good stuff. Marcos Muñez. Mr. Ghost in the Machine. He has nothing. No identity that I can find. And believe me, Gibbs, I've hunted.

She was about to continue when she caught sight of Gibbs' wolfish grin. Abbs you may just have found our first lead.I did? Of course I did. I knew that. So, who is he?How are you at cracking diplomatic records? he asked her?

well that depends on who he is and where he's from and what his duties cover, now doesn't it. Why would the eldest son of a sleazy crime family be in the diplomatic corps?What's the easiest way to smuggle something or someone in from another country unquestioned? Put in a diplomatic pouch or make them a diplomat. Find me everything you can about that man, Abby. He's our key. 


	24. Chapter 23

"That's all you have?"

"At the moment. Yes, Sir." Morrow eyed Gibbs, waiting for the man to elaborate. "My people are following up on Marcos and checking on an old case with ties to—"

"Jethro," Tom interrupted Gibbs' not quite emotionless recap of his team's work. "It's not enough. The evidence is too thin." As Gibbs began to protest, Morrow held up a hand.

"Turn what you have over to Balboa's team later today after they've filed their reports for their current case. Let them handle this."

"Sir, Agent Balboa's team isn't up-to-speed on this matter. My team is. Why are you doing this?"

Morrow stifled a sigh. He should have known that Gibbs wouldn't make this easy. "Balboa is perfectly capable of doing the same research that your agents are currently doing. As far as not being up-to-speed, then get them there. Today. I need you on more urgent matters." He watched as the Marine focused on a distant point, his features a controlled mask as he responded.

"Sir, with all due respect, what could be more urgent—"

As Morrow nodded to one of the communications techs, he thought about how this case with Ari had eaten at the soul of one of his best men. He needed to get Gibbs to let this go, to let someone else handle it. Surely there must be a way to make the man see that he was too close to it, that it was destroying him both inside and out.

When the main screen sprang to life, the bright white of Autopsy lit up the dim room, the coroner standing in front of one of the gleaming steel tables. Tom hoped that this case would prove to the driven agent that there was more at stake than just one terrorist with an alleged vendetta. Or was the vendetta Gibbs'?

"Doctor Mallard, I believe you were looking for Special Agent Gibbs?" Morrow's voice carried easily across the room.

"Ah, yes. Good morning, Director. Jethro, are you familiar with a case of a missile specialist who went missing?"

"Yeah, Duck. Has he been found?" Morrow watched as Gibbs seemed to shift focus from the terrorist. It appeared that as the doctor spoke the agent was already searching the room behind the doctor.

"In a manner of speaking, he found us." Ducky moved aside and revealed a small metal basin sitting on the table behind him.

"Ducky, what is that?" Gibbs leaned forward unconsciously, as if to get a better look. Morrow, having already been briefed, didn't need to.

"That would be the poor boy's left thumb."


	25. Chapter 24

Gibbs was down in Autopsy faster than the speed of light, or so it seemed to the man working there. Was he alive when they cut it from him? The question was out of the agent's mouth before the doors had finished closing. 

Yes, I believe he was. Either that or it was cut immediately after he was killed. Ducky was about to explain that there was a very short window after death where the difference would be difficult to determine without a more thorough examination when Gibbs' cut him off with a gesture.

All right, how did it get here?I've sent all the packaging materials and the note that came with it up to Abby for processing. This was one request he had anticipated and had called Abby immediately upon discovering the contents of the package. Apparently that wasn't all Gibbs was interested in, however. 

Great. Now, how did it get _here_? Did the mailroom deliver it? Was it here when you got in? Something else? What? Gibbs snapped out the questions like gunshots.

Well, I don't know. It was on my desk when I got in. And the mailroom doesn't deliver my mail until after I'm in. As the coroner finished speaking, Gibbs was already on his cell phone.

Yeah, McGee! Pull the security tapes for Autopsy for the last twenty-four hours. We've had an intruder.Jethro, what can you tell me about the owner of this thumb? Ducky leaned over the dismembered digit and examined it closely, yet again.

I assumed you knew, Duck. You said it was from our missing missile specialist.I was only quoting what was in the note that came with the thumb. I don't even know his name. The doctor turned around to face his friend.

What exactly did that note say? Gibbs looked at Ducky sharply.

Let me see Here's proof that your missing missile specialist is still alive. Good luck finding him.' Ducky inclined his head as he recalled reading the words printed on the page right before he called Director Morrow.

The man's name was Petty Officer Second Dan Michaelson, assigned to our carrier group in the Gulf. He was reported UA after he failed to return from a seventy-two. It was investigated, a few unidentified prints were lifted from his hotel room but the case stalled for lack of evidence. Gibbs had leaned against one of the silver tables as he talked. Now he straightened up, clearly preparing to leave.

I dare say it'll be reopened now, Ducky commented. Do you want to take the thumb up to Abby to see if she can get any prints off of it as well? Besides the owner's, that is.

Gibbs stopped, surprised. Yeah, Duck. Excellent idea.


	26. Chapter 25

Tony looked up as Gibbs strode into the bullpen. DiNozzo, McGee, change of plans. We've been ordered off the investigation. Irritation was written in every line of the Marine.

Ordered by who, Boss? Tony didn't understand. How could they have been ordered off the case? They'd been working non-stop for days on catching whoever was behind the attack on Gibbs and they hadn't solved anything yet.

Gibbs glared at the younger man. Who d'ya think, DiNozzo? Director Morrow wants us to hand over everything to Balboa for now. We have something else that takes priority. He set his coffee down on his desk and tossed the file he was carrying on Tim's. McGee, here's the file on the Petty Officer Michaelson case. Pull that up on the plasma.

McGee quickly scanned the file and typed in the case number. As the screen flashed up the service record of the young Naval officer who was reported UA five weeks previous, Tony stepped from behind his desk and commented. New lead?Yeah, you could say that. Ducky got his left thumb in a package today, along with a note that said to come find him. Gibbs stared at the other man.

Do we know where he is? McGee chimed in.

Abby's working on it now. She has the letter and the wrapping from the package. Go see how she's doing and if she needs any help, McGee. And if you need to, make sure you take the time to familiarize yourself with the case while you're down there. The silvered head jerked in the direction on the elevators and McGee hustled off.

So what are we gonna do? Tony asked as he picked up the controller and scanned through the rest of the scant file on the UA investigation.

Find him, DiNozzo! You and I are going to take whatever Abby can give us and go see what we can come up with. I'm going to leave McGee here to transfer over our findings on the Ari-slash-Muñez case to Balboa. Tony saw the grimace on Gibbs' face as he spoke. I'm also going to have him keep a copy of everything and tell him to keep working on it anyway.Listen, Boss, Tony began, hesitantly. Let me stay. I've uncovered some interesting things about Purcell's operations in the TBA that might dovetail with some of the Muñez family's dealings. Also there are a few others that are highly suspicious. I really want to finish checking them out.

Gibbs looked uncertain and Tony pressed the issue. I'll make sure Balboa gets everything, Gibbs, I swear. But to quote Abbs, something looks very hinky' and I'd just want to run it down. Please.Please'? All right, Tony, you can stay. I'll take McGee with me instead. But stay on top of the Michaelson case, as well. He may still be alive and according to the director, he's our priority now.


	27. Chapter 26

Tony swore it looked like the printer had gone haywire and puked up a ream of paper. Pages littered his desk. The agent, however, took his time as he read through each printout. This was Purcell's handiwork, each page one more thorough listing of some nasty bit of work that the CIA consultant had had his slimy little fingers all over. 

Thanks to Joe Tabaraz, the contact he and Kate had made in Ciudad del Este, Tony was able to get far more than he'd dreamed possible on their presumed dead scumbag. And now, as he analyzed the activity in each of these , he found that for a dead man, Purcell had an awful lot of thriving enterprises.

So, Señor Purcell, he muttered in a heavily accented voice. Who you find to run your businesses for you? He dropped the accent as he picked up one page in particular. Or are you still running them yourself? Tell me, just what kinds of documents _do_ you forge anyway? Death certificates, by any chance?

He swiveled back to face his computer and began a second search on document forgeries. While the search ran, something tickled the back of his brain and he closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Suddenly he remembered a case from roughly eighteen months ago, a document forgeries case that had been taken out of their hands. The bust had gone south, a bad CIA agent had been involved. And try as he might he couldn't remember any more. But the coincidence was too great, and Gibbs didn't believe in coincidences. Tony wasn't sure he believed in this particular coincidence either.

_Time to go talk to someone brilliant and beautiful,_ he thought. He gathered up the pertinent pages from his searches, quickly arranged the rest in an order that made sense to him and headed off to the lab.

* * *

McGee, where the hell are we? Gibbs was shouting over the noise of the car on the dirt track. It couldn't be called a road; that distinction was left to land that was flatter and firmer than the potholed path the Intrepid now jounced along.

Boss, according to the map Abby found in the wrapping of the box, we're almost there. McGee had a page spread out in front of him, matching it up with the computer screen and GPS locator system in front of him.

Almost where? Hell? We've been driving for two hours in the middle of nowhere!There should be a farmhouse just up ahead. McGee checked the map on the screen one more time, just as the vehicle careened to a stop. He looked up to see an old barn roughly fifty yards ahead of him, through the sparse trees. The dilapidated farmhouse was a short distance past that.

Let's go. Nice and easy. Gibbs unholstered his weapon and climbed slowly out of the car, just as his phone began to ring.

* * *

Tony walked into Abby's lab just as the dark-haired girl was removing Michaelson's thumb from the fuming chamber. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a slightly skeptical look.

Fingerprinting our thumb, Abbs?As a matter of fact, Tony, I am. And I have a couple of partials here. I don't know how good they are, but we'll see. She carefully dusted and lifted the prints from the severed digit while Tony looked on, vaguely nauseated. Once she had the prints loaded into the scanner, she turned to him.

Now, Tony, what can I do for you? She stood there with one hand on her hip, waiting.

Tell me what you know about document forging.You want the beginner's lecture or the advanced course? She brushed past him with a smirk and started the computer matching for the partial fingerprints she pulled off the thumb.

Abby, I'm serious. I think forged documents may play a key role in what we're up against. He moved to stand next to her, showing her the evidence he found so far.Well, duh, Tony! Abby took the papers from him but didn't look at them. I knew that part. It looks like diplomatic forgeries for the most part. Gibbs seems to think that that's how they're getting people and weapons into the country. She glanced down at the pages she held.

Remember that case that we had eighteen months ago? The one where we first met Leah? I think that's connected to this, too. Tony rifled through the pages in Abby's hands and pulled one sheet in particular.

How do you come up with that, Tony? Abby was still ignoring the pages she held, choosing instead to focus on the man in front of her.

Leah said that her forgery bust, the one she took over from us, got screwed by a CIA agent. Ketterer, to be precise. Two CIA agents with forgery deals going? That can't be a coincidence. Tony tapped the pages in Abby's hand.

But Ketterer is dead, he couldn't have been behind Purcell's death at the CIA! Abby was still trying to work it through. Tony found one more sheet in the stack and showed it to her.

Doesn't mean there wasn't someone higher up than both Purcell and Ketterer, running both of them. One based in the US one based in the TBA. Look, all of Purcell's businesses are still active, so someone's kept that going. I need to find out what Ketterer was into here so we can unravel this from both ends.

Before Abby could say another word, her computer chimed an alert. No way! she exclaimed.

No way, what? Tony looked up curiously.

I got a match, or well, mostly a match to one of the partials from the thumb. Abby tapped away at the machine and frowned.

What's wrong?

The goth girl turned to him and sighed. I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is we can now tie Paolo Muñez to something other than Gibbs' attempted OD. The bad news is, it won't stand up in court.

Tony cocked his head at her. You wanna run that by me again?Paolo's finger print is on the thumb, but it's only a partial and there aren't enough points of reference for it to stand up in court. Abby shook her head. I gotta call Gibbs and let him know.

Tony stood staring at the fingerprint match while Abby dialed Gibbs' cell phone. He was only half-listening to the conversation while he looked around the lab.

Hey, Gibbs. Got a sort-of-match on a fingerprint lifted from Michaelson's thumb I mean it's not a complete match, at least as far as the courts are concerned. But I'm pretty sure it's his. Paolo's! Ow! Gibbs! Is that gunfire?

Tony's head snapped around to stare at the lab tech. Abbs, is what gunfire?

Abby clicked the call over to her speakerphone and the lab was filled with the sounds of gunshots. 

Tony yelled, but there was no response. Suddenly the line went dead.

Abby, where the hell are they? Find them, now! Tony was pulling out his phone, watching as Abby's fingers raced across the keyboard to located the GPS signal.

Got em! They're—I'm calling for back-up, Tony cut her off and was about to dial when it started to ring. He glanced at the caller ID.

Gibbs, thank God, he muttered, and pressed the button to take the call. Boss, are you all right?Sorry, DiNozzo, it's not Jethro. Tony ground his teeth at the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

Tony muttered under his breath. He flipped the phone shut. Abbs, call the local LEOs and let them know about Gibbs. I think I've got a problem. As he spoke, the phone in his hand rang again.

Reading the caller ID, he flipped it open and pressed the button to take the call. This better be Gibbs or I'm going to shoot your ass.Now is that any way to answer your phone, Agent DiNozzo?Fornell, what the hell are you doing on my phone, pretending to be Gibbs?We need to talk. Now. The voice was irritatingly smooth, as if it expected to be agreed with.

Forget it. I have more important worries than you right now. Tony went to snap the phone shut but paused as he heard Fornell's reply.

More important than your life?

Reluctantly he brought the phone back to his ear. What are you playing at this time, Fornell?You're the one who's playing, DiNozzo. In the CIA's backyard. Not too smart, if you like breathing. 

Come on, out with it. Just say what's on your mind and get it over with. Tony had no patience left and it showed.

Drop what you're doing, DiNozzo. Fornell bit out the words.

Forget it. Why don't you tell me what you know, instead? We both know I'm going to find out eventually.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. On your way to your grave, most likely.I haven't got time for this. Nice chatting with you. Once again, he went to flip the phone closed. Once again, Fornell's voice stopped him.

Where's Gibbs?Busy. If you don't mind? Tony grit his teeth and tried not to spit the words.

You asked if he was all right. Is he all right? Fornell actually sounded concerned.

I don't know. Good-bye, Fornell. For a third time he tried to end the call.

There was a pause. If Gibbs is in trouble then you and I had better have a talk. Meet me Tony could almost hear the wheels turning in the older man's head as he thought. Meet me at the DC Beans four blocks from your office. Fifteen minutes. The line went dead.

Tony stared at the phone in frustration. Then he turned to Abby who was on the phone with local police.

he inquired softly. She looked up and shrugged. He read it as no news yet.

I gotta go. I have to meet someone. I'll keep trying Gibbs, okay? he whispered. She nodded and he turned and left the lab.

Two blocks from the office he was still intent on dialing Gibbs, still unable to get through to either him or McGee. He barely heard the gunshot that sent him dropping to the ground.


	28. Chapter 27

As Tony headed toward DC Beans, he tried repeatedly to reach either Gibbs or McGee on their cell phones. Frustration at being unable to get through to either of them was taking its toll on him, their situation uppermost in his mind. 

The sound of a bullet pinging off the metal trash can about a foot in front of him sent Tony dropping to the ground. Quickly he rolled to the shelter of a nearby parked car and pulled out his gun, scanning for the source of the bullets peppering the concrete near him.

Goddamn you, Fornell, what have you gotten me into? he muttered.

The sudden ringing of his phone startled him. Shifting his gaze from the nearby rooftops to the sidewalk, he spotted his phone an arm's length away, where he'd dropped it. Firing off a couple of rounds in the direction of the incoming shots as a deterrent, he reached out to snag the instrument. He quickly snatched the phone back, nearly gaining a piercing that would earn him a place of honor in Abby's colorful picture gallery.

Just as he went to hit the button to take the call, the ringing stopped. Was that really Gibbs or not? he snarled in frustration after looking at the caller ID. He hit the redial button but the call came back Call Blocked. 

Fornell, you are such a total bastard. I'm in no mood to play your twisted version of Phone Tag—

Almost immediately, the phone began to ring, Gibbs' name flashing once again one the caller ID. Tony didn't believe it for a second. he snapped.

Where are you? You're late. Fornell's voice was mild despite the underlying irritation in the words.

Who the hell is shooting at me, you bastard?Somebody's shooting at you, DiNozzo? My guess would be an ex-girlfriend or an angry husband. Who've you been dating recently?

Tony pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a full five seconds. It's not an ex-girlfriend, you asshole! he shouted.

Just then the shooting stopped and complete silence reigned in the street.

I did warn you that you were in over your head. Maybe now you'll listen?

Tony slammed the phone shut. Like that's ever gonna happen, he growled. He slowly picked himself up off the street to the sound of screeching tires and sirens. Thank God, he muttered as he began to reholster his weapon.

Put your gun on the ground and put your hands on top of your head!

He looked around to see three police cruisers with several local LEO's, guns drawn, sheltering behind their open car doors.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! he yelled, even as he complied in the face of the firepower aimed at him. NCIS! Badge is in my jacket pocket. I was the one being shot at!

One officer hustled forward to manhandle Tony to his knees, confiscate his Sig and rifle his pockets until the agent's badge was located.

Hey, you really are NCIS! The surprise was evident in the young cop's voice.

Let me see that, An older, slightly heavier officer joined the first. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, eh?Yeah. Can I get up now? Tony was unused to having to crane his head around to look at anyone and he didn't appreciate being put in this position.

Not so fast. We got a call that some nut was shooting up the street. Gave us your description. Both officers were still eyeing Tony with some suspicion.

There was some nut shooting up the street! He was aiming at me!Troubles, DiNozzo? Both the cops and Tony looked up as Fornell emerged from the shadows.

Nah, Fornell. I always hang out on the sidewalk with my cop friends like this after a shooting. Tony and Fornell glared at each other for a moment while the young officer glanced between the two men.

You know this man? the older officer finally asked Fornell of Tony.

Yes. Is there a problem, Officer LaRousse? Fornell made a point of reading the man's name badge.

LaRousse explained the situation and Fornell shook his head. DiNozzo wasn't the one doing the shooting, he was the one being shot at.And you can verify this? How, exactly?He was on the phone with me. Fornell pulled out his cell phone and brought up the call log. 

May I see your cell phone, Agent DiNozzo? The younger officer was becoming slightly more polite. He took Tony's phone and scrolled through the call log, then frowned and handed it to his partner.

Sure, but my call is logged as having—They just need to see that you were on the phone, DiNozzo, Fornell interrupted him. 

That's not strictly true. Agent DiNozzo's phone says his call came from someone named Gibbs. Not you. LaRousse looked up at Fornell, suddenly suspicious.

Agent DiNozzo doesn't like me. He wouldn't have taken my call. So I hacked the caller ID for his boss. If I may? While Fornell took his phone and called Tony's to demonstrate, Tony seethed, still on his knees on the ground.

Anybody mind if I get up now? After all, I'm the victim here!Fine. Clearly there's been an error here. I'm going to need a statement from you on this. LaRousse eyed Tony carefully as the agent got to his feet with a grimace.

I'll personally see to it that you get a statement from both of us, Officer LaRousse, Fornell said smoothly, pulling out his FBI ID. He transferred his gaze from the officer to Tony as he continued. I'm sure this was just a case of mistaken identity and I can guarantee that this sort of thing won't happen again.


	29. Chapter 28

Tim flinched as yet another shot chinked off the boulder in front of him. He and Gibbs were crouched behind a large rock, the only shelter in sight aside from their car. As his hands pressed on the cool stone, he marveled at the good fortune that this rock happened to be here, just big enough to protect two men from a shooter intent on doing them harm.

He turned his head and caught sight of a bullet hitting the ground only inches away from Gibbs' cell phone, taken out by a ricocheting bullet. More subtle shifting to ease the cramp in his knees as another bullet reminded him to stay tight to the rock to keep from exposing himself to the assailant's seemingly endless supply of ammo.

"How long do you think we're going to have to stay here, Boss?" McGee tried once again to reach for the phone in his jacket pocket.

"'Til they stop shooting, McGee!"

McGee rolled his eyes at Gibbs, though thankfully his boss' head was turned. Then, for what felt like the zillionth time, his phone began to ring. Of all the days to have it in his inner jacket pocket, why did it have to be the day he'd be pressed up against a rock, praying for his life?

Slowly he began to shift around again, all too aware of the small safe zone the boulder provided. As he brought his right hand up to slip it inside his jacket he felt himself start to lean backward. Quickly he shifted his feet, adjusting his crouch, to keep himself still safely sheltered.

"McGee what are you doing?" Gibbs grabbed him and yanked him back against the rock at the same time a searing pain shot along his left temple.

"Dammit, McGee, you got a death wish or something? Let the phone ring." He felt pressure on the side of his head and then the dizziness washed over him.

"Boss? Don't feel too good." Tim swallowed and tried to figure out what happened. He was sure he'd stayed close enough to their safe haven, he couldn't have been shot.

"Just hang on, you'll be fine." Gibbs' voice sounded very far away for as close as Tim knew the man to be. He tried to do as he was told, feeling oddly detached as he rested his forehead on the rough surface in front of him.

"…'m I shot?" He asked the question in a curiously flat voice.

"Nope. Looks like you got sliced by a shard of rock. Lotta blood, McGee."

Tim groaned. Lotta pain, too. He drew in a slow, shaky breath and suddenly realized all was quiet around him. "Hey. No more shooting," he said weakly.

"Here, hold pressure on this. I'm going to check—" Gibbs was interrupted by the sound of sirens.

He felt Gibbs stand slowly next to him and he slumped down to the ground from the crouch he'd been in for nearly fifteen minutes. Keeping pressure on the painful wound, he tried to track the sounds around him, piecing together the activity.

* * *

Gibbs kept a close eye on McGee as he called out to the approaching officer. "NCIS, I have a agent down over here!"

"Hold your position and keep your hands where I can see them!" came the answering yell.

"Christ," Gibbs muttered under his breath. He stayed motionless until the officer stepped next to him, gun drawn.

"I have a report of a shooting at this location." He glanced at the ground and saw Gibbs' Sig laying near his feet. "Is that your weapon?"

"Yes. It hasn't been fired. My partner needs medical attention, now!" He gestured to McGee, who was looking decidedly pale.

Over his shoulder, the cop yelled to an unseen partner of his own, "Yo, Smithers! Get an ambulance out here!" Then he turned back toward Gibbs. "You got some ID, NCIS?"

He nodded and with two fingers opened his jacket to expose the inner pocket. "Inside pocket."

The cop – Reede, according to his nametag – reached in and pulled out Gibbs' badge wallet. After examining the badge and ID thoroughly, Reede handed back the wallet and motioned for Gibbs to pick up his weapon.

"What happened here, Agent Gibbs?"

"We were lured into a trap." Gibbs gave a brief explanation of the evidence and map they were sent, and ended with their exit from the car. "We had made it maybe ten feet when the shooting began. We were closer to this rock at that point so…" he trailed off and shrugged.

"And you have no idea who was shooting at you?"

Gibbs was spared from answering as the sirens announced the arrival of an ambulance. EMTs hustled over to tend to McGee while Gibbs, Reede and Officer Smithers looked on.

While the technicians worked, Smithers turned to her partner. "Looks like there are tire tracks leading away from here out to the old logging road. Must be how your shooter got away.

Gibbs swore silently. "Can I go check out that house? I need to know whether or not there really is a kidnapping victim inside or not."

Reede and Smithers exchanged a glance. "We'll go with you, Agent Gibbs." Officer Reede led the way toward the farmhouse.

The three of them didn't have to look far. One glance in the window showed the body on the floor.

"That the man you're looking for?" Smithers asked.

Gibbs nodded as he pulled on gloves and tried the door, only to find it locked.

"Well, at least you found the guy," commented Reede as Officer Smithers found an open window at the end of the porch and slipped inside. Gibbs glared at the insensitive cop, then pointedly turned away from him.

As Smithers opened the door for Gibbs, Reede called in the crime scene, requesting that NCIS be notified so their people could send out a team. Gibbs stepped over to the body and noticed a folded piece of paper sticking out of the jacket.

Pulling out his pocket camera, Gibbs began flashing the scene and the location of the note in particular. Then he carefully slid paper out and opened it.  
  
_It was too late for Michaelson.  
It's not too late for you.  
Stay out of it or next time the shots won't miss._


	30. Chapter 29

"Fornell, you are a…" Tony stopped and censored himself. "Jerk," he finished lamely. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but he used all the halfway polite and most of the impolite epithets he could think of on the way back to the NCIS building. He was down to the just plain foul now. He glared at the man standing impassively before him and picked up another aspirin off his desk, crunching it down dry. "Couldn't you at least have brought me coffee?"

Fornell gave a smirk and Tony itched to slug it off his face. "Sorry, Agent DiNozzo. I've forgotten how you take your coffee."

"Oh, bullshit, Fornell. You probably know how my last girlfriend took her coffee."

"Black, two sugars," Fornell tossed out, casually, then continued on. "So are you ready to listen to me now?"

"You just had someone using me for target practice on a DC street!" Tony was incredulous. "Why the… you know what? Never mind. You're not going to be happy until you tell me what's on you're mind, so go ahead." He made an expansive gesture with his right hand while still cradling his head in his left.

"Your problem, DiNozzo, is you don't know when to leave well enough alone. You and Gibbs, both, need to stop digging around in this mess and walk away. There are people already handling this, people far better placed than you right now."

"And what precisely is 'this', anyway?" Tony sat up slightly, wondering if the gunfire he'd heard his boss being treated to was related to his own.

"Fine question, Tony. Fornell, don't you think it's time you stopped pussy-footing around the whole situation and started answering some real questions?" Gibbs blew by the two men and slammed his gun into his desk drawer.

"Gibbs! What the hell happened out there? Where's McGee?" Tony dismissed Fornell momentarily to focus on his dusty and furious leader.

"Our farmhouse turned out to be a shooting gallery. With us as the targets. I'm more interested in what's going on here. Why weren't you out at my crime scene, DiNozzo, and what's Bozo the Clown doing hanging around?"

"Oh, now, Jethro. That's not very nice. After everything I've told you?" he finished his coffee and pitched the cup in Tony's trash.

"You haven't told me much of anything, Tobias. Perhaps you'd like to start with what you know about those shooters out there today?" Gibbs' voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"Why should I know anything about your shooters?" Fornell returned calmly.

"Let's just say I don't trust you. So out with it. Whose job was it to play clay pigeons with us? And was injuring McGee part of the deal or not?" Gibbs' voice became icy as he stared down the FBI Agent.

Fornell said nothing, his expression blank.

"Damn, Gibbs? Is he going to be okay?" Tony's shocked voice cut through the tension. Then he rounded Fornell.

"What the hell is it with you? You get off on playing with people's lives or something? It's not enough that Kate's dead, now McGee has to get shot, too?"

The older man backed up a step with his hands half-raised in surrender against Tony's fury.

Gibbs, observing all of this, stepped in verbally. "Easy, Tony. McGee didn't get shot. He took a piece of flying rock to the side of his head."

"Still, this isn't right—"

"No, it's not, DiNozzo, but McGee is going to be fine and that's what's important. As for you," Gibbs shifted his gaze to the other man, still holding his 'Who me?' posture. "Don't give me that innocent crap, Fornell. I want answers now!"

"Say, Boss, forget him," Tony snarled while looking at Fornell, then turned and gave Gibbs a conspiratorial grin and continued. "I bet I know where we can get some answers. I think I found a link between Purcell and Ketterer. Think Leah would take a phone call from you?" Tony gave Fornell a smug look. Fornell returned it with an enigmatic smile of his own.

"Miss Hecht is out of the country, I'm afraid. She's on a special assignment. Favor to an old friend."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later Gibbs hung up the phone, in frustration. He'd contacted the only link he had for Leah, a name Tony had found for him – Jack Lawrence, a Denver attorney. 

But the first words out of Jack's mouth after Gibbs identified himself sent a shiver down Gibbs' spine.

"Agent Gibbs! Good to finally hear from you. How's Leah?"

It took several minutes for the two men to straighten out the story. According to Jack, Leah worked for him as his private investigator and had been since she left DC.

Then two months ago she received a phone call from an old friend. Leah hadn't said who, but Jack had assumed it was Gibbs. Leah said she needed to do some work for this friend and asked for some time off. She'd be going undercover again and there'd be no way to reach her.

When Gibbs called looking for her, Jack began to sound worried. If Gibbs hadn't called her, then who had? Gibbs assured the attorney that he'd look into the matter. In the meantime, he extracted the man's promise to notify him if Leah contacted him for any reason.

As he finished the call, he noticed that Fornell and Tony were having something of a staring contest. Actually, Tony's was more of a glare and Fornell's more of a smirk. _Enough with this shit_, he thought.

"Where's Leah?" Gibbs' question brought Fornell's head around.

"I don't know if I can tell you that." The words were mild, accompanied by a shrug.

"Dammit, quit jerking me around! Where is she, Tobias?" Gibbs slammed his hand down on the desk.

"Gibbs," Fornell shook his head warningly.

"All right, Fornell. I want answers. Not just half-truths, either. Cards on the table. Or I shoot your ass." Gibbs walked over and leaned against Kate's desk, never taking his eyes from the man who seemed to hold all the answers.

"Jethro…" the other man began slowly.

"No more excuses. Spill it all, now. Or I throw you in a holding cell for obstruction of an NCIS investigation." Gibbs voice was deceptively mild, only a hint of steel running through it.

"You'll never get away with it."

"Try me."

"Jethro, I can't," Fornell stood, palms up in supplication.

"DiNozzo, cuff him."

"You'd really do this?" Fornell was twisted around as Tony took great delight in securing one cuff on the man's wrist.

"Look at that, Fornell. Sterling silver bracelets, just for you." The younger man grinned as he spoke.

"Oh, don't be vulgar, DiNozzo. You and I both know he'll never make this stick."

"Damn you, Tobias! Just talk to me!" Gibbs turned his back on his sometimes friend and rested his hands on the desk of his fallen agent.

"All right, all right. But not here. Our usual conference room?"

"No." Gibbs turned around and looked him in the eye. "Interrogation."

* * *

The Observation room was eerily quiet. The cameras were still, the recording equipment silent – Fornell had been adamant about that. The room itself was empty, Special Agent DiNozzo ensuring the two men's privacy by standing guard in the hall outside. 

"Let's have it." Gibbs sat calmly across the table from Fornell in Interrogation Room One.

"You already know some of it," the other man hedged.

Gibbs simply beckoned with his hand, as if he could pull the words forth from the recalcitrant lips. "Start at the beginning."

Sighing, Fornell began slowly. "The Al-Qaeda cell that you thought you wiped out when Kate died is actually more complex than just those few terrorists. CIA's been watching them for quite a while. Unfortunately, there's been a couple of CIA operatives with questionable ethics and motives involved. I believe you know them?"

"Ketterer and Purcell," Gibbs stated flatly.

"Mm. Yes. Well, in an unprecedented move, someone at the CIA turned to someone at the FBI for help."

"You're joking."

Fornell spread his hands. "I'm only telling you what I know. I'm not really part of this. They wanted some help with the domestic end of things. We put a man in place several months ago with the right background to attract some attention. Unfortunately for us, he's disappeared and we haven't heard anything from him since."

"Michaelson's dead, Tobias." He said it quietly, sure now that this was all tied together.

"Ah… damn. How, Jethro?" Fornell rarely showed emotion, and now was no exception, but Gibbs could detect the genuine sorrow underlying the words.

"Ducky will have some answers for us in a little while. What was Michaelson's job?"

"For us? To infiltrate the cell and gather intelligence, of course. His cover was as a missile specialist. Our latest intel said that Al-Qaeda was planning on using our own military against us." Fornell rested his head on one hand as if he were tired of the process already.

"So you gave them a weak man, some one easily seduced. Hoping they would try to make a double agent out of the man? Or were you just hoping they would kidnap him? And while they were busy supposedly bleeding him dry of information did you think you'd gain some of your own? God, you people are a bunch of cold bastards!" Gibbs snorted in derision and drained his coffee.

"Dammit, this wasn't my plan!" I told you, I wasn't involved in this!" Standing suddenly, he paced away from the table. "This whole thing is a mess. There are dangerous men being smuggled into this country as diplomats with forged papers, brining God knows what with them in diplomatic pouches. We suspect there are expert forgers in this country helping out the effort. The documents they're creating are so good that even the governments of the other countries involved are having a tough time telling the false papers from the authentic ones."

Fornell turned back to Gibbs and continued. "We have a credible threat to the military, but we're unsure how they plan to execute it. At first, we thought they might simply try and slip a substitute in for Michaelson, but that hasn't happened.

"We've been all over these 'suspicious' diplomats from the minute they enter the country, but there are several countries involved and many of the men and women never leave the embassies during their stay here. Of course we check out the couriers and visitors to those embassies, but there aren't enough hours in the day to keep track of that many people." He sighed as he sat down in front of his questioner. "You want answers? Frankly, so do we, Gibbs. Who the hell did you light a fire under? We haven't made anyone that mad and we've been investigating this thing for months!"

Gibbs smiled. "Tobias, even if I knew who I'd pissed off, I'm not sure I'd tell you."

The FBI agent gave a half-smile and looked away. His questioner recaptured his attention one last time.

"Tell me about Leah, Tobias."

"I don't know. I don't even know for sure who pulled her in on this." Fornell sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I ran across her name in some paperwork. She's been tasked as an undercover operative working overseas. That's all I know." He hesitated and Gibbs pounced on it.

"Out with it!" he growled, leaning forward.

"The code name for her particular op is Scarlet."


	31. Chapter 30

The only sound Tim heard upon entering the lab was the hiss of the doors. Although his throbbing head was grateful for the silence, he found himself wondering where Abby was. It wasn't until he stepped further in that he saw her dark head bowed over her computer, her fingers motionless.

"Abby?"

She spun around and launched herself across the room at him. "McGee! Thank God you're all right!"

"Abbs, shh, please, my head is killing me." He wrapped his arms around her as she hugged him fiercely.

"What the hell happened out there?" She pulled back and looked him over, eyeing the bandage that covered the gash the sharp shard of rock made. "_Are_ you all right?"

"I'll be fine." He held up his reason for being there, two evidence bags. One containing seven slugs retrieved from ground around the rock where he and Gibbs had been pinned down that morning, and one containing the note found with Michaelson's body.

"God, McGee, were you shot?" Shock colored Abby's voice as she took the bags and carried them to her workbench, stopping to retrieve a pair of gloves along the way.

"Not exactly. I was hit by a piece of flying rock." When she simply stared at him, he broke down and related the entire story.

"Well, there's at least one piece of good news in all of this, you know?" Abby said as she finished removing the letter from the evidence bag and placed it in the fuming chamber.

"What's that?"

"Tony won't dare headslap you for a while." She grinned at him as she started removing the jars containing the slugs from the remaining evidence bag.

He gave a light laugh and put his hand to the bandage. Sobering, he continued their previous conversation.

"The property was deserted, I'd have sworn it. And then all of a sudden someone starts shooting at us. It was as if we were lured out there to be targets. It was bizarre, Abbs."

"Why do you say that?"

"We were in the middle of a wide open field with only one safe place to hide and they didn't start shooting until we were near enough to take cover."

"You mean they wanted to shoot at you but not hit you?" Abby had lined all seven jars up and extracted the first bullet from its protective enclosure. She carefully placed it under her ballistics microscope so she could see and compare the markings to the remaining slugs.

"Exactly. If that note's anything to go by, I think they just wanted to scare us. Whoever 'they' are." Tim's voice held a tinge of anger rather than fear.

"So what's next?" Abby turned from her scope and looked at Tim.

"Find whoever owns that property," he answered grimly. "Somebody has to know something, Abbs. I'm going to find that somebody."

* * *

The usually bustling squadroom was eerily silent as three agents sat, heads intently bent to their work. Gibbs, irritated at the pace the investigation seemed to be taking, glanced over at the two younger men, determined to light a fire under someone's ass.

"McGee? Whatcha got?"

"I've traced the property ownership through a couple of holding companies back to a Maria Elena de la Cruz, a Guatemalan national living in this country, but I can't connect her to anything else, Boss. She looks clean as a whistle."

Gibbs saw Tony perk up at the mention of Guatemala. "What, DiNozzo?" He took a drink from the cooling cup of coffee on his desk and grimaced in distaste.

Tony glanced around quickly. "McGee, weren't you the one who did the workup on the Muñez family? Don't they have a gun-running business out of Guatemala?"

"Actually, Abby did most of the work on Paolo's family. But, yes, Tony, that was the first thing I checked. Maria Elena de la Cruz has no connection to the Muñez family." To Gibbs, though, McGee's statement sounded wrong. He could feel his gut begin to churn even as Tony stood up, a slightly predatory gleam in his eye.

"What did you check?" Tony sat on the corner of the other man's desk.

"Marriage license, driver's license… passport…" McGee's words slowed as he caught Tony's eye and the two men shared a look. "All papers that can be forged, can't they?" Both men nodded.

"I think we need to meet with Senorita Maria Elena de la Cruz, McGee. Don't you?"

"On it, Boss. I'll pull her financial records as well." McGee turned back to his computer as Tony stood.

"What about you DiNozzo?" Gibbs turned his attention to his senior field agent.

"Boss, I got nothing. Oh, I have piles of information on Purcell's business, what's still operational, how much money they're making…" he shrugged as he trailed off. "Problem is, I've got no way in." He walked over to sit on the filing cabinet by his boss' desk.

"Sure, I could probably infiltrate the prostitution rings pretty easily," he said with a smirk. And received a smack on the head for it. "Ow, hey, I was serious! Those are the easy ones to break. Forgery's next to impossible to crack."

Gibbs sighed. He knew Tony was right, but they needed to get some inside information on the forgery ring.

"You know, it's a real shame Ketterer had to play chicken with the cell block badass two months into his sentence. He'd be a lot easier to question if he were still alive," Tony sighed.

Gibbs merely raised one eyebrow and stared for a beat before responding. "Ketterer wasn't playing with a full deck when he went in. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he did something suicidal."

"Gibbs," McGee stood, waiting.

The older man swiveled his head to stare at the agent.

"I've got info on de la Cruz, but you're not going to like it," he said with some hesitation

"And why's that, McGee?"

"According to INS, she's no longer in the country. Seems she traveled from DC to California two weeks ago—"

"What was she doing in California?" Gibbs leaned forward and pinned the younger man with his eyes.

"I'm still pulling her credit card records from her trip, Boss. It's going to take a few more minutes for the data to download. In the meantime, I can tell you that three days ago she boarded a flight from Los Angeles to Guatemala."


	32. Chapter 31

"It's her, Boss. Abby's iris mapping program makes it a ninety-four percent match." McGee turned away from the plasma screen and faced his superior.

Gibbs glared at the two pictures on the screen. On the right was the passport photo of Maria Elena de la Cruz. On the left, the most recent known photo of Conchita Muñez de Bianchi, sister to Paolo and wife of one of Argentina's most successful drug runners.

It had taken them four hours to sort out Maria Elena's identity. She'd been very careful to cover her movements, but one slip-up with a limo and a credit card had led them to graduate student Juan Muñez. That was followed by her hasty exit from the US and a disappearing act in Guatemala, which was conveniently timed with Conchita's arrival home from visiting family in Latin America.

"Dammit, I'm tired of being played by these people," Gibbs growled, slamming a file down on his desk. "Get me Paolo. I want to have a little talk with the local branch of the Family Muñez."

"On it," McGee nodded, pulling his Sig from his desk drawer.

Gibbs turned his attention to Tony who was asleep at his desk, snoring faintly. He was tempted to wake the agent up and demand something from him as frustration set in, but he knew it wasn't fair. Tony had been working just as hard as the rest of them, possibly harder and on less sleep. And with all the connections to South America rearing their ugly heads, he had a gut feeling that Tony would be needed to take on a potentially dangerous assignment.

He flipped through the reports on his desk again. All intel pointed to two things. Purcell still alive in Paraguay or Argentina with his businesses somehow linked to the Muñez family. And someone here in Washington running an operation that they would prefer to keep very private.

But how were those two things linked and why target him and his team? What did they see or know that could make them such a threat? He decided to make a mental list once again, hoping something would make sense this time.

Taking a sip from his coffee, he realized it had gone cold. Deciding the walk to DC Beans would help him sort the problem out he slid his gun in his holster and made his way out of the building.

As he walked, he kept part of his awareness on his surroundings, but the early evening was peaceful, unlike the morning. Grateful for the silence, he sorted through everything he'd seen and done in the past several weeks.

He reached the door of the coffee shop and movement from the shadows caught the corner of his eye and shattered his thoughts. He froze trying to place the image, eyes searching the dusk for the individual who'd stopped him cold. There! Just as he spotted the man, Gibbs was jostled by a caffeine-deprived patron desperate for her fix, drinking as she walked out the door. Hot coffee went everywhere, scalding Gibbs and the woman, earning a string of curses from her as her obviously expensive shoes were now ruined.

"And my dry cleaning bill! You're going to pay for that, too!" she fairly shrieked. Gibbs had had enough. He pulled out his badge and looked at her dispassionately.

"NCIS, Special Agent, Ma'am. I'm sorry about the coffee. I'll buy you a new one. But you're on your own for the shoes and the cleaning." With that he stepped up to the counter and ordered two cups of coffee, both black and strong. As he walked back past the woman, still swiping ineffectively at her skirt with a napkin, he set one cup down on the napkin stand next to her.

"Have a nice night." He didn't stick around to see if she would drink the brew he gave her or not. Women like that reminded him of why he was single. Again.

He walked back to HQ sipping on the strong, hot beverage and mulling over where he'd seen that face before. He was nearly back to his desk when the memory came to him.

He walked up to the door of DC Beans and glanced to his left, noting the man sitting in the shadows. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the man, but Gibbs filed him away, as he did all faces that struck a particular chord in him.

_When he pushed through the doors, fresh coffee in hand, he spied Ari, sitting at a table, waiting for him. He smiled inwardly at the prospect of taking down this traitorous bastard as he approached the table._

He should have shot that smarmy piece of shit when he had the chance and worried about the consequences later. If he had, then maybe Kate would still be alive. He clenched his free hand into a fist and ground his teeth. No, he couldn't allow himself to get caught up in what ifs. Kate was gone, God rest her soul, and he would have to live with that. The best he could do now was go on and catch her killer.

_Ari's parting shot was a bomb, to prevent the agent from following the yellow-clad motorcyclist. Gibbs leaned under the table where he sat and found the device, secured to the underside of the table. As he ripped it free and stood, he caught sight of shadowy man from earlier, now standing as well. As Gibbs turned to dash down the alley, he passed the man, calmly walking the opposite direction, a faint smile on his face. _

Gibbs set his coffee down on his desk. Did the memory of that elusive face mean something? Only one way to find out. He picked up his phone and dialed down to the lab.

"Abbs, I need you to get the facial artistry software ready. I have somebody I need you to draw for me."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Abby was shaking her head. "I don't know, Gibbs. He's pretty generic looking." 

"I can see that, Abby. Just do what you can. Run him through every database you can think of. He has some connection to Ari, I can feel it."

"This is about Kate?" Abby's eyes widened. "Why didn't you say so?"

"This may be about everything." He pointed at the face on the screen and sighed. "That's the only thing I've come up with that could be a reason for someone coming after me. Find him and maybe we start finding some answers."

Abby looked at her tired friend with grim determination. "I'll find him."

Just then the door to the lab swished open and McGee stuck his head in. "Hey, Boss. Got Paolo Muñez waiting for you in Interrogation One."

Gibbs ran a hand over his face. "Thanks, McGee. Go round up DiNozzo and meet me in Observation."

"You got it." McGee ducked back out of the lab and Abby gave Gibbs a disapproving look.

"You're exhausted. You need to sleep," she told him, flatly.

"Right after I finish with Muñez. I need some information on what's going on and I need it yesterday. None of this makes any sense."

Abby gave a soft snort. "There's your proof the CIA is involved. Nothing they do makes sense."


	33. Chapter 32

Gibbs, Tony and McGee stood in Observation looking through the glass at the man in the chair. He appeared to be a little nervous, but not overly so.

"We're clear then?" Gibbs looked at Tony and McGee.

"Crystal. You're sure about this?" Tony turned to face the silver-haired man and studied him in the bluish light.

"Yes, it'll be more believable this way. McGee, Abby tell you what she got off the entrance camera?"

Tim gazed up at the ceiling as he recited a list. "He's wearing a gold signet ring, goldtone watch with a leather band, carrying a pen in his shirt pocket. She says that the pen is our best bet for duplication, but needs a clearer shot to verify the brand and type."

"As soon as you get it—"

"She'll have it down in her lab, Boss." Tim stepped over to the surveillance tech and explained what they were looking for.

"Now, get in there, DiNozzo. And make it look good." Gibbs growled as Tony straightened his shirt and tie, preparing to go into Interrogation.

* * *

Tony swung the door closed forcefully behind him as he entered the small room. "Well, Paolo, seems you come from a very interesting family. Makes me wonder what you're doing in the States as a lowly hospital intern." He grabbed a chair and turned it around, straddling it while he fixed his gaze on his interviewee. 

Paolo, for his part, acted as though he were sitting at a table in a corner bistro, waiting for the impertinent sever to stammer apologies for spilling the soup on him and daring to blame the customer for causing the accident.

Tony was unfazed by Muñez's hauteur and tossed a picture onto the table from the file that he carried. "Care to tell me what you know about Petty Officer Dan Michaelson?" It was the interrogator's turn to wait, but Paolo simply shrugged and remained silent. You do remember him, don't you? You should. You cut off his thumb." Tony tossed yet another picture on the table, this one of the severed thumb that was currently in Ducky's Autopsy lab. "We found your print on it. Matched it up with your hospital ID, there, Paolo."

"Doesn't mean I cut his thumb off," Paolo spoke, sullenly. "Just means I touched him."

"So you just held his thumb while someone else hacked it off. Nice." Tony shook his head with a mirthless laugh. "No, you did the dirty work, I'd bet on it. And you dumped the body out at Maria Elena's farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Finally, you lured two federal agents out there and took potshots at them."

"What is 'potshots'? You saying I was shooting at someone? I wasn't shooting at anyone! And who is Maria Elena? I don't know no Maria Elena. I'm a good boy, I was working hard at the hospital." Paolo's sudden flow of words didn't fool his questioner.

"You were working when, Paolo?" Tony asked silkily.

With a bang the door flew open and a slickly dressed man stepped in. "Don't say another word Paolo." He turned to Tony and stated, "I'm Benton Ellsworth, Mr. Muñez's lawyer. He has nothing to say to you on this matter."

Tony nodded to the young man waiting by the door. He received a nod in return before Ellsworth's escort closed the door to the interrogation room. "Now, what is this all about?" the lawyer blustered as he took a seat next to his client.

Tony shifted his chair around and grinned. "I thought you knew since your client obviously 'has nothing to say to me on this matter'."

"Don't be cocky, it doesn't become you." Ellsworth sneered.

The agent merely raised his eyebrows and stared back at the lawyer and his client for a full thirty seconds, letting them sweat. Then he began to speak calmly.

"Mr. Muñez has been brought in to answer some questions in the death of Petty Officer Dan Michaelson. His fingerprint was found on the severed thumb of the victim, which was sent to NCIS along with a map. The map not only led two of our agents to Michaelson's body, but into a trap. I am simply trying to ascertain what your client knows about Michaelson's death and the trap set for our agents."

"That's not what it sounded like when I walked in here."

"It's always difficult when one bursts in on a line of questioning. There is so much room for misinterpretation." Tony agreed with a smile. "Why don't we start over? Paolo? Do you have your green card and some other identification with you? We'll just run a check on all this, make sure everything is up to snuff while we finish up this interview."

Paolo fished up the requested documents as he asked, "Señor Ellsworth, can they do this?"

"Yes, Paolo, they do have the right to check your papers. But since everything is in order, there's nothing to worry about," the attorney said placatingly.

Tony took the proffered items, sealed them in a evidence bag, and left the room briefly. Tim and Gibbs met him in the hall.

"What did Abby come up with, McGee?" Tony asked, twirling the evidence bag between his index fingers.

"Store-bought Quillan," Tim said, checking his watch. "In fact, she should be getting back from the corner drugstore with its duplicate right about now."

Tony looked dubious. "She got the correct model, just from the picture of the cap? How does she know it's not different at the bottom?"

"It's not a cap, Tony; it's a clip. The brand name and logo were clear."

"Tony has a point," Gibbs commented. "We need to see the whole pen. Think you can get him to take it out?"

"Get me something he needs to sign, I'll get him to take it out." Tony said with a smirk.

Tim nodded as he turned and headed for the lab, then turned back a moment. "Hey, Tony. When I bring these back? Don't have a pen on you."

* * *

Gibbs watched from Observation as Tony walked back into the Interrogation Room. The agent slid easily into his seat and picked up his questioning once again. 

"Now, Paolo, I'm confused. You say you didn't cut off Michaelson's thumb, you don't know Maria Elena de la Cruz and you know nothing about the shooting that went on at her farmhouse where the Petty Officer's body was found. Is that correct?

"Yes, yes, that is correct," the hospital worker agreed fervently.

"Then tell me why, in addition to your print on the dead man's thumb, we found your prints all over the package it was sent in?" Tony lied smoothly while flipping through the file. Gibbs chuckled quietly at this blatant attempt to drive a wedge between the lawyer who would want to shut his client up and the client who would deny everything.

Predictably, Paolo paled then began stammering denials, while Ellsworth loudly overrode the upset young man's words. Gibbs could clearly picture the self-satisfied grin DiNozzo was having to swallow. In the midst of the cacophony, there was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" Tony called out, almost too happily as McGee joined Gibbs back in Observation.

"What did I miss?"

"Just DiNozzo being DiNozzo," the older agent commented with a smirk.

The same young man who had escorted Ellsworth to the interrogation room now brought back Muñez's ID, the evidence bag now marked several times. Tony took it from him and the young man cleared his throat.

"You have to sign, Sir."

"I know I have to sign." He started to reach in his coat pocket for a pen, then remembered McGee's words. He patted himself down and looked to the kid. "You gotta pen?"

"No, Sir."

Tony looked across the table and pretended to spy Paolo's pen. "You don't mind, there, do ya?" And he proceeded to snag Paolo's pen from his pocket. Once he'd signed for the evidence, he held up the pen and examined it.

McGee was already talking to the surveillance tech, making sure to get the pictures of the pen they needed, while Gibbs focused on the remainder of the interview.

"Nice pen, Paolo. All we get is government issue crap. Ah, well. Thanks." He handed the pen and ID back to their rightful owner.

While Muñez put his belongings away, Ellsworth stated with heat, "My client categorically denies your allegations. All of them. Now unless you intend to charge him with something, I insist you release him immediately."

"Well, there is the matter of his print on the thumb. This is an official interrogation into this matter. I do need him to sign a statement. I'll have it typed up for you in just a matter of minutes and once he signs that, he's free to go. For now." Tony shifted focus. "But Paolo, don't leave town. I'm not done with you. I still think you're more involved in this than you're letting on. And I'm going to prove it." With that, Tony gathered up his file and photographs and left the room.

* * *

Tony opened the door to observation and slipped in quietly. "Did you get what you need?" 

"Perfect pictures, Abby said," Tim told them as he entered just behind Tony.

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Is everyone ready for phase two?"

"Ready when you are," Tony told him.

* * *

Ten minutes later Tony brought in Paolo's typed statement for him to read over and sign. 

"Take your time, Muñez, make sure we got it right. You don't want to sign the wrong thing," the agent admonished.

"He's right, Paolo, take your time, and look it over carefully," Ellsworth urged. Tony lounged against the wall, inspecting his nails as the pair consumed a full quarter hour assuring themselves that NCIS did not put any incriminating words in Paolo's mouth. He tried not to grin.

Finally, the statement was signed and Paolo and his lawyer were escorted out of interrogation. Tony led them down the hallway and along the windows near some of the agents' desks.

Gibbs, as had been prearranged, was at his desk and could be seen draining a cup of coffee, just before pitching it in to a trashcan filled with empty coffee cups. Tony blinked at the sight before him; while he knew the plan, he was unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. There was a slightly disheveled look about normally impeccable Marine and he looked to be muttering quietly to himself. Tony threw a surreptitious glance over his shoulder and saw Paolo whispering frantically to his lawyer.

Suddenly, as they neared the desks closest to the man, he looked up and caught sight of the passing trio.

"Ari! Where are you taking him, DiNozzo?" Gibbs was half out of his chair as he asked the question. The man's startling blue eyes had a slightly wild look about them and Tony found himself blinking yet again at the act his superior put on.

"Uh, Boss, this isn't Ari. This is Paolo Muñez and I'm releasing him." Tony nearly stammered.

"The hell you are…" Gibbs growled menacingly as he launched himself across the squadroom and attacked Paolo, his hands around the South American's throat.

"Gibbs! What the hell are you doing? This isn't Ari! We ran his prints!" Tony started hauling on his boss, trying to separate the two as Ellsworth began prying Gibbs hands off Paolo's neck.

"McGee, get over here and help me!" Tim, who had been standing, watching the whole scene, dumbfounded, now tackled the pair, shoving Paolo over on top of Gibbs.

As McGee and Ellsworth continued to wrestle with Gibbs and Muñez, Tony raised his voice, so as to be heard over the din. "Look, Mr. Ellsworth, Señor Muñez, this is all a misunderstanding. Special Agent Gibbs has just been having a difficult time lately," Tony leaned to the side and winced as McGee took an elbow in the chest. "Ever since that incident where he was drugged in the hospital after his accident. He keeps insisting he's seeing Ari everywhere. The doctors insist that work is the best thing for him." He spread he hands out in a helpless gesture as Ellsworth looked up at him, a rip in his Armani – if Tony wasn't mistaken – shirt. "He is getting better. This is only the third 'Ari' he's attacked this week."

Ellsworth simply glared up at Tony as he and McGee finally succeeded in separating the two combatants. Tim wasted no time in snapping a pair of handcuffs on the still snarling and struggling Gibbs before trying to lure the man away, while Tony slipped between now-restrained man and Paolo.

"Gentlemen, this way, please." Tony hustled Muñez and his lawyer toward the elevator while McGee dragged a still thoroughly furious Gibbs back toward their desks.

"I'm gonna have your badges for this, Special Agent DiNozzo," Ellsworth snarled. "You can't just cover this up."

"Shut up," Paolo hissed, seeing Gibbs pause and half turn back toward them. "I don't care, man, just get me out of here! You people are _loco_!"

Tony escorted them into the elevator and as the doors closed on them Ellsworth glowered and Paolo's face held only the barest hint of a smile.

As they waited for the trio to be safely away, Gibbs muttered, "By the way,McGee, where did all those empty coffee cups come from?"

"I collected them from everyone on the floor. This place is way too caffeinated, Boss."

Gibbs rattled the handcuffs once the elevator doors were closed. "And you think I drink too much coffee." Gibbs just shook his head and Tim stared,

uncertain.

Unlocking his superior, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "How'd we do?"

"Well, I have a new pen." Gibbs shook his sleeve and out dropped Paolo's pen. The agent straightened up tidied his hair and re-buttoned his polo before examining his prize and McGee grinned at the sight of his boss' transformation.

"Then it worked?"

"Of course it worked, McGee. Do you think he'd have calmly walked out of here with our bug in his pocket if it hadn't?" The older man glared at Tim. Then with a jerk of his head he turned on his heel, tossing over his shoulder as he went, "Time to check in with Abby and see how we're doing."


End file.
